


They Were Your Eyes First, Baby

by oceans4jinyoung



Category: GOT7
Genre: Actor Park Jinyoung (GOT7), Adopted Children, Baby Kim Yugyeom, Baby Kunpimook Bhuwakul | BamBam, Cultural Differences, Domestic, Eventual Smut, Los Angeles, M/M, Original Character(s), Single Parents, Slow Burn, Teacher Youngjae
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:22:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 172,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24549835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceans4jinyoung/pseuds/oceans4jinyoung
Summary: Single, well-established Mark decides that despite his relationships never working out, he wants to adopt a child. A few years later after he is settled into single dad life, a famous South Korean actor named Park Jinyoung shows up on his front porch claiming to be his daughter's biological father. Mark is immediately hesitant but after learning that he just wants to be in the child’s life in whatever way possible, he learns to open up.  And as he starts to watch how Jinyoung takes to parenting, he realizes that maybe keeping him around could be good for all of them.
Relationships: Choi Youngjae/Mark Tuan, Im Jaebum | JB/Jackson Wang, Park Jinyoung/Mark Tuan
Comments: 808
Kudos: 685





	1. One.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the **Spotify playlist** for this story.
> 
> [Your Eyes, Baby](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/55id7WiKM8EdKPy3uXUVt0?si=yFSYZkCvR12n88Gqr4F76Q)
> 
> Come yell at me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/oceans4jinyoung) and [Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.me/oceans4jinyoung)!!

Eerily enough, this was how Mark always pictured it. Him and a child. He figured most people growing up always imagined the complete package of a family. A married couple, a few kids, a dog, a white picket fence. Maybe Christmases or trips to Disneyland. But not Mark. For him, it was always the small things. It was always grocery shopping and singing along to the radio and haircuts in the kitchen and falling asleep on the couch. It was the small things that made him want to be a dad. And truthfully, he’d never really imagined sharing that experience with anyone else. Maybe he selfishlessly wanted all those moments for himself. So that he’d never feel like he missed a thing.

The adoption agent looked over the paperwork, smacking her lips together before speaking. “You know only three percent of children who get adopted go to single males.” She stared over the top of the paper.

“I’ve done the research,” Mark nodded.

“So you know this won’t be easy,” she put the papers down leaning her elbows onto the desk.

“Yes, I know,” Mark nodded. “But this is what I want. This is what I’ve always wanted. To be a father. And I’m not going to let not having a partner hold me back from that.”

“Full disclosure,” she looked over her glasses. “This could take… years. If it happens at all. Mr. Tuan. You are young, only twenty-two? You might be better off playing the field some more. Finding someone to settle down with.”

“I know this will take awhile,” he sighed. “That’s why I’ve started so soon. And I hope you can be respectful of that fact that I don’t have a desire to work on my personal life right now. Frankly, I see it as something independent from this. Something that I’m not nearly as committed to as I am becoming a dad.”

She sighed. “Well,” she started, looking down at his paperwork. “You’re a good candidate. UCLA alumni. Financially stable. Great family background. I mean there’s so many good things here. But it’s hard to imagine birth parents looking over your age or your marital status.”

Mark took a deep breath, recollecting himself. “Just tell me. What do I need?”

She pursed her lips. “I’m going to set you up with a home study for the end of the month. One of our agents is going to come over to make sure the living situation would be suitable. Here’s a list of things they will be looking for.”

Mark sat forward, taking the list and looking it over. “Okay,” he nodded. “I can do this.”

The agent looked at him. “I just want to be perfectly clear,” she said. “I don’t want you to get too hopeful. We can bring forward your profile to birth parents. We can facilitate them meeting you in person and evaluating you. But they ultimately choose whether they want their child to go with you or not.”

“I understand,” he nodded. “And I’m going to do everything in my power to prove myself to them.”

\---

“You sure you want the nursery in this room?” his mom asked, crossing her arms and looking up around her at the gray walls.

“Yeah,” Mark shrugged, looking at it more critically and growing slightly defensive. “I mean, it’s close to my bedroom. It stays cool all year long. What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s dark,” she said, bluntly.

Mark looked to the north facing window, seeing the spill of indirect light not totally filling out the corners of the room. “Well, maybe but-”

“He’s going to need light,” she turned to him, eyes serious.

Mark sighed, dropping his shoulders. “Mom,” he groaned. “You can’t keep saying ‘he’. I don’t know that I’ll get a boy.”

“Well, think about it, Mark,” she scoffed. “What mother would give their daughter to a young single man like you?”

Mark felt himself physically ache. Knowing that he’d heard the agent already lay out all the obstacles for him but hearing it from someone so close to him cut deeper. He turned away from her. “Mother,” he kept his voice calm and diplomatic. “ _When_ I get selected, I’m going to be extremely thankful to any birth mother who trusts me with raising her child. And I don’t _care_ if they are a boy or a girl. I don’t _care_ where they are from. Because whichever baby I end up with will be perfect to me. And any difficulties I face along the way are just going to make me appreciate them even more.” He looked over. And in her eyes, he saw the pooling of tears, growing wetter and wetter in the low light.

“What?” he asked, stepping closer in concern. “Why are you crying?”

His mother sniffed, blinking back the tears. “You’re just…” she sighed. “You’re going to be such a good father. I just know it.”

And Mark smiled, feeling his heart swell in his chest. “Mom,” he laughed, coming closer to hug her. “Don’t cry. You’ll make me cry.” He squeezed her tightly before pulling back to look in her face.

She wiped the tears from her eyes. Sniffling again. “But really,” she switched back to her serious tone instantaneously. “Put them in the room downstairs. There’s much more light there. And it’s safer without the stairs to climb.”

So Mark spent his nights the next few weeks painting the walls of the downstairs bedroom a light mint. Putting together a crib and a chair and checking off every little thing that a baby would need. Getting his home study done and getting approved so that his profile could start making the rounds with potential birth parents.

And Mark knew he’d be waiting for a while. So he kept his head down. Working hard. Reading baby books before bed. But what he didn’t anticipate was so many close calls. So many times when the adoption agent would call and the same interaction would play out. “They really like your profile,” she would say, voice enthusiastic. “They would love to meet you.”

And Mark would get himself so excited. He would do everything he could to prepare his house. He would clean till it was spotless and make snacks and dress professionally and try to do everything that was recommended of him. And it would go so well. He’d be kind and friendly and funny and understanding. He’d try to convey how important this was to him. How excited he was about becoming a dad. Reiterating the list of points he had diligently prepared.

But he’d always get a call. A few days later. And the agent’s tone wouldn’t be so enthusiastic anymore. “I’m sorry,” she’d sigh. “They went with someone else.”

And while the first few times were easy to brush off, easy to think that maybe there had been a better suited family than him, as it kept happening and as the months passed by, becoming years, it got harder to not take it so personally. Not to feel totally hopeless. Like he would never get to be the dad he dreamed of being. Because no one saw potential in him.

It was getting to him. First in small ways. Seeing parents in the grocery store with their kid in the basket. Passing by a little league game at the park and hearing the cheering. But when the reminders got bigger, it got harder to cope. When it was his sister announcing at Christmas time that she was expecting again and Mark had to excuse himself to cry in the guest bedroom. Because he wanted that. He deserved that. He knew he did.

When it did happen, on a hot June day two years into the process, it all happened so fast. So unexpected. Starting, like always with the same phone call. “The birth mother seemed intrigued by your profile.”

And Mark had heard it all before so he knew by now to not get his hopes up. He sighed, looking at his calendar. “Well, I’m pretty busy this week with a few work deadlines. Maybe she could come over on Friday?” he thought out loud. He looked around his living room, taking note of the things he had to clean up. “I guess I could get everything around here prepared by then-” 

“No, Mark,” the agent stopped him. “She went into labor already. Three weeks before her due date. The baby is coming anytime now.”

Mark froze. “What?” he blinked. “Well. What am I supposed to do then? Should I come meet her? I could leave now,” his words rushed as he stood from the desk in his home office.

“No,” the agent breathed, trying to calm him. “I can’t disclose too much, but she only recently got in contact with our agency. And she already had decided that she didn’t want to meet any potential parents.”

“Then,” Mark tried to think, pacing and pacing around the room. “What do I do? How can she make a choice without meeting anyone?” he asked, wandering out into the house.

“In these cases, the mother decides after the baby is born,” the agent said. “Based on the profiles we have provided for her.”

And Mark leaned into the nursery, looking at the empty, unused furniture and feeling something he couldn’t put his finger on. Something that made this specific instance feel vastly different from the past attempts. “Can I…” he sighed. “Could I maybe write her a letter?” He thought. “Something you could give to her. Alongside my profile.”

And there was silence on the other line for a moment. “I’ll do that for you, Mark.”

Mark got off the phone. He got his laptop, bringing it into the nursery. He sat down in the rocking chair that he had bought. Looking at the empty crib. The unused baby supplies. He pulled at his lips, nervously. Imagining it being different. Imagining it being full of all the mundane things that he had been dreaming of for the past two years. And he started to write. Flooding the letter with his sincerest wishes. His most personal hopes for his child. Freely acknowledging that maybe he wasn’t the ideal choice. Maybe on paper, it didn’t add up. But he knew that after two years of wanting this more than anything, he was ready to put everything into being a father.

He found a few pictures of his family. Their dinners together. Their vacations. Attaching them to the letter in hopes that the mother would understand that family had always been at the core of his life, his values. And even if he didn’t have a partner to raise the child with, he had his family supporting this move into the next phase of his life. 

He signed his name. Hovering over the send button for a moment. Wondering if this was too much. If it was too open and vulnerable and honest. But then he told himself he had nothing to lose. That he’d been turned down so many times already. What was another rejection? Another crushed hope? So he sent it away to his agent, hoping for the best but expecting the usual. And he went to sleep that night, praying for what felt like the impossible.

It was around seven in the morning when he was awoken by the ringing of his phone and it took him a moment to wonder who would be calling before the realization hit him like a freight train. He scrambled to grab it.

“Hello?” he answered, sitting up in bed.

“Mark,” his agent said, voice smiling from the other side. “You better wake up.”

“Why?” Mark asked, clipped and feeling a bubbling of nerves well up inside him. “What’s happening? What’s going on?”

The agent was quiet for a moment. Letting Mark simmer in pure agony, before she spoke calmly. “You’re meeting your daughter today.”

Mark felt his whole body tense and coil tight with a flood of anxiety. As if it didn’t know exactly what emotions to feel besides overwhelming shock. Not able to process exactly what this meant, but the sensation being so strong that it had him bolting from his bed. “Okay,” he breathed, chest pounding, staring to pace his bedroom floor. “W-what am I doing? Where am I going?”

“Calm down,” the agent laughed. “It’s okay. Breathe. You’re going to be meeting me at the hospital. I’ll send you the details.”

Mark got dressed. First, laying out a button down and trousers before remembering that he wouldn’t be meeting the mother. But he would be holding his daughter for the first time, so he flicked through his t-shirts, trying to find the softest one. He came across his old heathered UCLA shirt that had been washed over and over again after long days of football and tailgates. One of those shirts that held so much comfort and nostalgia that it had become his favorite. He felt the gray cotton between his fingers and knew it would be perfect for the soft skin of his baby. His baby. Wow. He went to the bathroom, running wet hands across his face and stopping to look at himself in the mirror. “By the end of the day, you’re going to be a dad,” he said. And it just made his stomach drop again with a fierce mixture of anticipation and wonder.

But he didn’t have time to process it, before he was off in his car. Calling his parents on the way to the hospital and telling them the news.

“What?” his mother yelled, the sound of her waking Mark’s dad in the background. “Who are they? What do you know?” she asked, rushing through her words.

Mark tried to breath. “I don’t know!” he nearly screamed, feeding off her frenzy. “The only thing I know is that she’s a girl.”

“A _girl_!?” his mother screamed. “Oh my god,” she breathed, the tears welling up in her voice. “Please drive safe, son. And call me when you have more news.”

When he arrived at the hospital, his agent was waiting in the lobby. Her eyes and smile grew wide as soon as she saw him. “Good morning,” she sing-songed, clutching a file tightly in her arms.

“Morning,” Mark tried to catch his breath, feeling as if he’d been in a full sprint since he woke up.

“So,” she smiled, eager. “Are you ready to meet her?”

And Mark felt like he might cry. Everything in him a rush of excitement and terror. Knowing how long he’d waited for this. How many times he’d dreamed of it. The whole moment felt incredibly unreal. Like a dream he would be waking from at any moment. His hands fidgeted together. “Yes,” he said. “I’m ready.”

She led him back into the hospital. “We are going to have you wait in a room and we will bring her to you.”

And so Mark waited. And waited. And what was only a few minutes felt like hours of slow and painful torture. His hands sweating and his knees bouncing. All of his worst anxieties repeating in his head. What if it didn’t work out? What if the mother changed her mind? What if the baby didn’t like him? What if there was something medically wrong with her?

But he breathed and told himself every answer he already knew. That as soon as he signed the papers, it would be official. That the baby would love him because he was her dad. That she would be healthy and beautiful and everything Mark had waited for. The manifestation of Mark’s patient waiting over the past two years.

There was a knock at the door. And Mark looked up as his agent held the door open for a nurse. And in the nurse's arms was a tiny little bundle.

And Mark ran his hands against his shorts to try and dry them.

“Here she is,” the nurse said, voice soft. “Say hello to your daughter.” And she offered the bundle towards Mark.

Mark felt everything move in slow motion as he reached both hands out. Seeing the little exposure of her small face. Her eyes closed and peaceful as she slept. And though he could feel himself shake, he tried to still himself as he took her head carefully with one hand and let the other fold around her body, drawing her close to his chest. And he looked down at her, unable to look away.

“Hello,” he whispered, chest giving out. And when the word left his lips, he watched as she opened her eyes, looking up at him. Blinking slow and curious. Her round, pinked cheeks glowing in the morning light. Her tufted black hair smoothed under the edge of her cap. Feeling everything in him halting. Frozen. Mesmerized by the sight of her and the clean smell of her. How small and unreal she felt in his arms.

He felt their eyes on him. He tried to pull himself from the depth he’d been pulled into. Asking the first question that came to mind. “What… what’s her story?” he asked, not looking up. “Why can’t the mom take her?” He watched the baby react, staring back at him as he spoke. That slow blinking interest as if she was studying him too.

“Well,” the agent spoke up. “It’s within the mother’s right to not disclose fully. But we know that she isn’t from America. She came over here to stay with some family, knowing she would be giving the baby up for adoption. As far as we know, the biological father isn’t in the picture. If I was to speculate, I’d imagine it’s something cultural. There’s a lot of taboos around single parents where she’s from.”

“Where is she from?” Mark asked, letting his finger come up to touch the baby’s cheek. Feeling how soft and silky her skin was.

“South Korea.”

Mark thought for a moment. “If there are taboos around single parents, why did she pick me?” he looked up for the first time.

The agent shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said, softly. “I gave her the letter and the pictures you offered and she chose you almost immediately.”

Mark blinked, not understanding what he had said that had managed to have such a large impact. He looked down again, seeing the way the baby kept blinking back in her silent interest. He couldn’t fight the smile every time their eyes met. “What’s her name?”

“That’s up to you,” the agent said. “We require the mother to give a name for our records but you are free to choose a new name for her. We can process her paperwork moving forward under that name.”

“What was the name?” Mark looked up. “That the mom chose.”

“She named her…” she opened up the file in her hands, eyes scanning over. “Haeseon?” she said in a questioning tone, like she wasn’t quite sure if she was pronouncing it correctly.

“Haeseon,” Mark repeated it under his breath, looking back down at her. Trying to place the name. “What does it mean?”

“I don’t know.”

Mark looked at his daughter. Her wide eyes and her tiny little pout. His fingers reaching up to feel the peek of smooth black hair against her forehead. “Well,” he nodded. “Haeseon it is.”

“Are you sure? You can change it.”

Mark kept looking down at her. “She’s Korean, isn’t she?” he said. “She shouldn’t have to forget that.” He felt the warmth she radiated, wondering how something so small can burn so bright. And it hit him. “I’ll call her Sunny,” he smiled.

“You know what?,” the agent said. “I like that.” She opened up the file again. “Okay, we will finish filling out Sunny’s paperwork and then bring it all to you to sign. And then she’s yours.”

Only an hour later, the nurses helped Mark tuck Sunny into her car seat. The same one that had been waiting in his car for months for this occasion. And he sat by her side, triple checking that she was properly secured as his agent stood on the curb.

“You know, Mark,” she said, smiling. “I’ve sent off hundreds of children to live with their adoptive parents. But I rarely feel as thoroughly confident as I do about sending her home with you.”

Mark smiled, turning to hug her and thanking her profusely. Taking the folder of documentation and listening as she described how the agency would be checking in soon to see how Sunny was settling in. And after that, they were ready.

Mark called his parents as soon as he got on the road.

“You have her?” his mother asked through the speaker, tone brimming with excitement.

“I have her,” Mark smiled, choking around his euphoric laughter as he looked into his rearview mirror. Seeing the reflection of her wide eyes closed in a little nap. “I’m on my way home. Come over.”

They both came over. Holding her and cooing over her. Helping Mark feed her and change her. Saying how beautiful she was. How lovely she was. And it wasn’t until after they kissed her soft little cheeks goodbye, promising to be back again tomorrow, that Mark finally had a moment alone. 

It was night time now and Mark was holding her in his arms as he rocked her in the low light of the nursery, only a night light illuminating the space. She had just finished another meal. And her pretty dark eyes were fluttering shut as she was rocked. Ready to sleep for a few precious hours before needing to be fed again. 

Mark looked at her. Taking the moment in. And while he had let himself stay composed in front of everyone, in this small quiet moment, the one he’d been waiting for longer than he could remember, he felt himself break. Eyes flooding with tears and chest shaking. “You’re my baby,” he whispered through his tears. “And you’re perfect. So perfect. And I promise, I will always be here to remind you of that. I promise I’ll be here to protect you and make you smile and never ever let you forget how incredibly loved you are.”

And logically, Mark knew that she couldn’t yet understand. But he knew that one day, she would. And until then, the words served as a promise to himself. That he’d be the father he had waited so long to be.

Time moved in the way that he’d been warned it would. Slow during the hardest parts but quick during the best parts. Slow when she’d cry, overwhelmed by every new sensation and emotion her early little life was bringing while Mark would whisper an endless stream of encouraging words into her little ears. Slow when she’d catch a cold, sniffing and hurting no matter how tightly Mark held her. Slow when she’d struggle to sleep through the night, making Mark sit in her room and wait for her eyes to close.

But quick too. Quick when Mark would slow dance her around her nursery, humming something to her and watching her smile. Quick when she’d laugh at something new: bubbles, puppies, music, anything. Quick when she started sleeping through the night so soundly that Mark had to keep checking to make sure she was breathing. Quick when he pulled up to his parents house and saw her take three steps towards him before tumbling down. Quick when she started babbling out words that Mark would model, first being Dada of course. And before his eyes, he watched her grow from the baby with the curious eyes on him to the child with her curious eyes on the world.

And she was special. She was smart and quick and a fiercely independent problem solver. Always wanting to do things herself whether it was flip pancakes or choose her outfits or learn to swim. And even when Mark tried to help her, she’d sometimes push him away. “I can do it myself,” she’d say once she’d learned the words. “Sunny is a big girl.” And it made Mark laugh and back off a little, watching her struggle through learning how to use adult scissors and putting her arms through the leg holes of shorts and trying to make it to the far side of the pool in one breath. But Mark would always be there to help if she got frustrated. To pick her up. To tell her it’s okay. To help her find another solution. Always there.

For a long while, it was just the two of them. Well, Mark’s family too. But as time passed, Mark felt more and more confident in him and Sunny being their own perfect pair. Getting into the routine of taking care of her, lucky that he worked from home so that he could manage his work alongside watching over her. Even if sometimes it meant letting her play in his lap while he typed away at the computer. Letting her draw on the papers he had to read over. Excusing her giggles while on the phone with clients. And maybe there were times when friends from school or his siblings would bother him. Tell him to make more time for himself. More time without Sunny. But to Mark, this is what he had prepared for. And he wasn’t about to miss a moment of it.

Mark’s mother sometimes went as far to say that Mark spoiled Sunny. And Mark hated that word. Hated that she would say it anytime she saw him run to Sunny’s side when she cried or pick her up when she made grabby hands at him or offer her something new when she pushed away a food she didn’t like. Because to Mark, that wasn’t spoiling her. That was being attentive. And he was always attentive to what Sunny needed. Because she was his baby. And he was her Daddy. Her best friend.

That was until Sunny was on the cusp of turning five and they took a trip to the local playground. Mark was reading over something for work, looking up every so often to make sure he could still spot her. Watching her climb and slide and run around the jungle gym. A paper towel tube laced around her neck as a makeshift telescope. And he only looked down for a few moments, getting tripped up on some words in the script he was reading, before he heard the crunch of small feet on woodchips getting closer.

He looked up, seeing Sunny standing there. Her hair tied up with a multitude of clips keeping it smooth. Her clothes messy from playing. But beside her, she held the hand of another child. A little boy. And he was a little taller than Sunny with dark hair and a soft face. But Mark couldn’t miss the tears in his eyes.

“Dad, help,” Sunny said.

Mark looked at the boy. “Hey,” he said, softly. “What’s wrong?” Dad instinct taking over as he reached out to grab at the boy’s waist.

“I fell,” the boy sniffled, his little fist coming up to rub at his red eyes.

Mark looked down, seeing his scraped up knee. “Oh no,” he cooed. “Oh, I’m sorry. Let me help you.” He stood up, raising the boy up onto the bench, squatting down. He brushed away the dirt and debris carefully, trying not to make it sting any more.

“Sunny,” Mark turned to her. “Please tell me you didn’t push him.”

Sunny’s eyes went to the ground. “I didn’t think he’d fall.”

“Sunny,” Mark warned. “Tell me what happened.”

“He was scared to go down the slide. He wouldn’t go. He was being so slow. I thought I was helping him,” she tried to say.

“He was scared,” Mark turned to her, eyes going wide. “You know sometimes when you’re scared? Like at night when it’s dark? Does Daddy push you? Does he turn off your lights anyway?”

Sunny sighed. Voice low and guilty, “No.”

“Exactly,” he said. “Daddy waits for you. And helps you.”

Sunny’s lips twisted together in nervousness. She nodded.

“So, what do you say to him?” he beckoned to the boy.

Sunny looked up, sitting herself down next to the boy on the bench. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

“I don’t think he heard you,” Mark said.

“I’m sorry,” Sunny said a little louder. “I should have helped you. Not pushed you.”

The boy nodded, eyes drying up. “It’s okay. Even though I fell, it wasn’t as scary as I thought it would be.”

“What’s your name?” Mark asked.

“Yugyeom,” he sniffed again.

“Yugyeom,” Mark inspected his knee some more. “Where is your mommy or daddy?”

“I don’t have one,” he shook his head.

Mark panicked a little before he grabbed Yugyeom and started looking around for his parents. And he was beginning to worry that he wasn’t ready to adopt another child before he ran into two young men and realized that Yugyeom didn’t have a mommy and daddy at all. He had a Baba and Appa in the form of Jackson and Jaebeom, a couple who had just moved into the neighborhood. And though the interaction started with a fumbled realization that they both had adopted Korean children, it ended with Mark and Sunny being invited over for dinner.

And it was no time at all before Yugyeom had replaced Mark’s title of best friend, the two hanging out multiple days of the week and doing sleepovers on the weekends. And it was nice. For Sunny to have a child to play with. And for Mark to finally have adult friends that understood what he was going through, raising an adopted child. Even if they couldn’t understand his experience being a single parent as they’d been married for years.

Sunny and Yugyeom were the same age so when Jackson and Jaebeom started signing their son up for school, so did Mark. Shy Yugyeom was terrified at the idea of leaving home for hours on end without his parents but Sunny was excited, counting down the days on a calendar in her bedroom.

The night before the first day of school, Mark was tucking her into her big girl bed. But there had been something weighing on his mind for a while. Something that he’d been thinking about ever since he realized that Sunny would be starting school soon. 

“So,” he breathed, pulling the cover up around her chest. “Tomorrow is the big day.”

“Yup,” she nodded, grabbing her stuffed panda from behind her pillows and settling in.

“Are you excited?”

“I’m not excited, Daddy,” she shook her head. “I’m _really_ excited,” she moved the arms of the stuffed panda as she talked, lifting its little sprig of bamboo closer to its mouth. “Me and Yugyeom are going to meet new friends. Play games. Make art. It’s going to be the best time.”

“Of course it is,” he nodded. And he felt a little nervous. Unsure of how to bring it up. “Sunny. Can Daddy talk about something serious?”

And Sunny’s smile fell a little.

“You aren’t in trouble,” he grinned. “I just... you know how Daddy didn’t make you, right?”

And this wasn’t news. Mark had strongly believed that being transparent from an early age was the best way to expose her to the idea that she was adopted. So he wasn’t surprised when she started repeating his words back. “Daddy didn’t make me,” she said. “He picked me. Because he wanted the most perfect baby and when he saw me, he knew I was the most perfect baby for him. Just like Yugyeom is the most perfect baby for Uncle Jackson and Uncle Jaebeom.”

“That’s right,” Mark smiled. “Well,” he smoothed her blanket over her. “When you go to school tomorrow, there are going to be a lot of other kids. And everyone will be a little different. Because all families are different, right? Some families are a mommy and a daddy and some are two mommies or two daddies and some little children are raised by wolves.”

“Really?” Sunny asked, widening her eyes.

“Really,” Mark said. “But I don’t want anyone to make you feel different for only having a daddy, okay?”

“Okay,” she nodded, a little hesitant. Unable to imagine that someone would do that.

“And if anyone does,” Mark put his hand against her tummy. “I want you to tell me. Because you can always tell me if someone is hurting your feelings. Because when your feelings hurt, mine do too. How does that sound? Can you do that for me?”

“Yup,” she nodded.

“Okay,” Mark rubbed her tummy. “Go to sleep, baby. You have a big, exciting day tomorrow.”

“I love you,” she said, leaning up and wrapping her arms around him.

And Mark felt her arms tighten around his neck, dragging him down and he knew that he’d never get tired of this part. No matter how many times she said it. Every I love you was his favorite. “I love you more,” he said, rubbing her back before settling her back down into the covers. “Sleep tight, baby.”

The first day of school was hard. Not for Sunny. No, for Mark. Watching how she ran from the car, forgetting her backpack before backpedaling to grab it. And Mark should have been glad that she had such a positive association with school already. But also watching her nearly forget her hug and kiss goodbye left Mark feeling like he had already been forgotten.

So Mark went home. To his quiet house. He got all of his work done in record time. He cleaned up. He cooked himself lunch and then prepped dinner. He called his parents. And it was so strange to think that this was how it would be now. No Sunny to distract him. No Sunny to sit on his lap while he typed. And it was the first time since he brought her home that he felt a little lonely.

The school days got easier and easier. And he watched as Sunny learned new concepts with ease. Encouraging her and helping her practice her letters and her counting. Hanging up her newest crafts on the fridge. Driving her and Yugyeom to birthday parties for other kids in the class. And just as quickly as it came, kindergarten and summer passed by in a flash and Sunny and Yugyeom were entering first grade. But Mark wasn’t about to let this opportunity pass him again so he insisted on coming with Sunny to the first day.

Near the front door of the classroom stood Mr. Choi. A young man with wavy brown hair and round glasses and a wide smile that matched his bright eyes. His voice was enthusiastic as he welcomed Sunny in with a high five and directed her to her cubby. He stood up, meeting Mark’s eyes.

“You are Mr. Tuan, then?” he asked, cocking his head to the side and smiling just as brightly as he had for Sunny.

“Yeah,” Mark smiled, only then realizing that this hadn’t been the classroom assistant but actually the teacher. And he wondered when elementary school teachers got so young and handsome.

“Awesome,” he cheered. “I’m so excited to have Sunny this year. Her kindergarten teacher spoke so highly of her. And Yugyeom too.”

“Yeah. They are pretty inseparable,” Mark laughed. “Just watch out for her. She can be a bit independent. And feisty. But she’s good. Really good.”

“I’m sure she’ll be wonderful,” Mr. Choi beamed. “I did want to let you know that our first parent-teacher check-in is coming up in a few weeks. So definitely schedule your time slot as soon as possible. I’ll be sending an email tonight about it.”

“Sounds good,” Mark nodded, looking over at Sunny joining a small table of friends. “I guess she’s all yours now?”

“It’s not easy, right?” the teacher smiled, following Mark’s eyes. “Saying goodbye?”

“No,” he said, honestly before turning to him. “But I know she’s in good hands.”

Mr. Choi's creeping blush tipped his ears. “Of course. I look forward to meeting you again in a few weeks, Mr. Tuan.”

“You, too,” he smiled. “Sunny,” he called, squatting down. “Say goodbye to Daddy.”

And she ran over, giving him the quickest kiss on the cheek. “Love you, Dad!” she yelled before running back to her friends.

Mr. Choi giggled. “There’s that independence, huh?”

“Yep,” Mark laughed, gathering himself to his feet. “There it is.” He smiled fondly at her.

\---

The day it all started felt like any other day. Mark woke Sunny up on time. He washed her up, brushed her hair, and did the braid she was so fond of. Tying it off with a green ladybug hair tie that she had picked out from her collection. He made her waffles with peanut butter and banana on top, cleaning up her face when the peanut butter ended up on her nose. He sang with her in the car on the way to school, waving to Mr. Choi when he wished Sunny off with a kiss and an “I love you.”

He went home, logging onto his computer and getting to work on his second cup of coffee of the day. Everything perfectly scheduled. A well oiled machine. And it was almost time for lunch when the doorbell rang.

Mark was so shaken by the sudden noise that he sloshed a bit of coffee onto his sweatpants. Cursing under his breath before standing up. And his first thought was that maybe it was a package. But that couldn’t be right. Because packages almost always came in the mid-afternoon, before school let out. So as he went to answer it, he tried to guess what it could be. Seeing the outline of a person through the frosted glass of the front door before opening it up. 

A man turned towards him, dressed in nice clothing. A crisp pair of dress pants, a thin sweater pushed up his forearms, a pair of expensive looking sunglasses across his face. And it was obvious immediately that he was about Mark’s age. Good-looking, even if Mark couldn’t see his eyes. He could tell from the way his dark brown hair was perfectly quaffed and his skin was perfectly smooth and his upper lip curved up in the middle. And handsome strangers never came to Mark’s front door so his brain rushed to place him. First thinking that maybe he was a realtor. Or maybe a new neighbor. But as he studied him, he noticed the way the man was folding his fingers together, interlocking them in front of his sternum. Like he was nervous. And that didn’t add up.

“Can I help you?” Mark asked, leaning into the doorway.

The man took a breath. “Excuse me, sir,” he started, voice tinted with an accent that Mark couldn’t place. “Are you Mark Tuan?”

“Yes.”

“Good afternoon,” the man tried to smile, but it came out forced, almost pained. “My name is Jinyoung Park,” he put out his hand.

Mark looked down at it, furrowing his brows. Knowing that it wasn’t customary for a stranger to show up on your doorstep and offer you their name before the reason they were there. And it made him instantly suspicious. “Again,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Can I help you?”

Jinyoung’s hand retracted. His fingers curling into themselves, slowly. “Um-m,” he stuttered, and Mark was still busy trying to place his accent, knowing he was familiar with it. “I was wondering if I could maybe come inside and talk to you.”

But immediately, that didn’t seem right either. “Why?” Mark asked, face twisting up. Standing a little more squarely in his doorway, as if he was blocking it off.

Jinyoung licked his lips. “With all do respect, I’d rather tell you inside,” he said, folding his hands into his pockets.

And maybe Mark had been curious at first but now his patience was wearing thin. “And I’d rather you tell me here.”

Jinyoung took another deep breath, steadying himself before starting again. “You have a daughter?”

“Yes,” Mark glared. And it wasn’t a secret. Most of the people in the neighborhood had run into Sunny at one point or another. From their trips to the park to their walks to Yugyeom’s house. But it still wasn’t normal for a stranger to be asking about her.

The man swallowed, pushing the sunglasses up his face. “And she’s adopted, right? From Korea?” he asked.

Mark felt a little too exposed, rushing to anger. “Can you please get to your point? Are you selling me something? Trying to convert me to some cult? What’s your aim here?”

“Well,” Jinyoung waited a moment before continuing. “I’m her biological father.”

Mark froze in the doorway. So stiff that he could have shattered. “Excuse me?”

Jinyoung looked back through the impenetrable tint of his sunglasses. Words coming out like a firm statement, “She’s my daughter.”

“I know what a father is,” Mark stopped him. “But I think you must be confused.”

“No,” Jinyoung shook his head. “I have her records from her birth mother. That’s what led me to you. I have them with me,” he tapped the bag he’d brought with him.

And Mark stepped back, feeling offended that this man would try to con him like this. Using his daughter’s adoption as the guise. “Sorry,” he held up his hand. “But no.”

“No?” the man’s eyebrows creased. “You don’t believe me?”

Mark blinked at him, “Why should I?”

Jinyoung sighed. Pausing for a moment as he tried to find the words. “Please,” he begged. “If you just let me in. We can talk. I can prove it to you. I swear.”

Mark felt his frustration peak. “Listen,” he said, waving his hand. “You’ve disrupted me at my home and I am going to need you to go.”

Jinyoung nearly stepped forward, trying to grab Mark’s fleeting attention. “Sir-”

“You have the wrong family here.”

“Please-”

“Have a nice day,” Mark said, firmly before closing the door in the man’s face.

Mark tried to shake the encounter from his thoughts. Passing it off again as some scam. A series of precariously told lies meant to get under Mark’s skin. And he managed to oust it from his mind for stretches of time. Trying not to think about it when he was spending time with Sunny later that night. They were sitting at the coffee table in the living room, Mark helping her do a puzzle after she’d finished her dinner and her phonics homework.

“What did daddy do today?” she asked, cheerfully.

“I missed my Sunny Bunny,” Mark smiled. “Oh, here’s another edge,” he pushed the puzzle piece over towards her. 

“Ah!” she took it, aligning it perfectly on one side. “Did you work?” she asked.

“Yes,” Mark nodded. “And I cleaned and I made food and…” he tried to think, briefly picturing that man on his doorstep. Remembering the things he had said. There was no way. Mark had never even known Sunny’s birth mom. How would the dad ever be able to find him?

“And…” Sunny asked.

Mark blinked. “And did I say, I missed you?” he smiled, kissing the top of her head.

Sunny laughed. “Yes,” she looked up at him. “Of course, you said that.”

\---

The next day started like another normal day. But right around lunchtime, the doorbell rang again. And Mark almost immediately knew who it was most likely to be. And he considered not even answering. Letting the man stay there until he realized his efforts were pointless and walked away. But something else in him wanted to get to the bottom of this.

He opened the door. Seeing the same man as yesterday. Dressed just as sharply now as he was then. The same expensive looking sunglasses over his eyes. “What are you doing here?” he asked, an immediately venomous edge to his voice.

Jinyoung shrugged, “You didn’t let me talk yesterday.”

“Yeah,” Mark glared. “Of course, I didn’t. Some stranger coming to my house from wherever you come-”

“I’m from Seoul,” Jinyoung interrupted. Having lost some of yesterday’s nerves and seemingly replaced them with something firmer. “Just like your daughter. And I’m not some stranger. I’m-”

“You can keep saying it but I’m not going to believe you,” Mark rushed to say. “And she’s not from Seoul. She was born here.”

“Her parents are from Seoul,” Jinyoung argued.

“No, they aren’t,” Mark shook his head. “I’m her parents. I’m her father.”

Jinyoung licked his lips. He took in a breath, trying to stay calm. “She was born on June Fifth,” he started. “Five-thirty in the morning. On the dot. Huntington Memorial Hospital in Pasadena.”

Mark stood there, a slight bit of shock when he noted that he was correct on all fronts. But he shook his head. “What does that prove?” he shrugged. “That you have her records? Wherever the hell you got them?”

Jinyoung didn’t let himself be deterred. “Her mom’s name was Sunja Kim,” he said. "She was twenty-one at the time.”

Mark sighed. “Again-”

Jinyoung went to his bag, digging into a pocket. “You wrote her a letter when she had the baby. You explained why you were the best fit. And you put in pictures of you with your family,” he said, hand extending forward and holding a few photos.

Mark looked down at them before taking them in his hands. He looked through them. And sure enough, they were the posed pictures of him and his family. Their dinners and vacations. Arms around each other, smiling wide. Remembering how he’d sat in Sunny’s room and typed out that letter. Sending these pictures along with it. Praying for what felt like an impossible thing. And his mind tried to rush. Maybe Jinyoung had found them on social media somehow. But how would he have known exactly the pictures he sent? How would he know about the letter? He looked up.

Jinyoung dragged the sunglasses off his face and folded them into the pocket of his shirt.

Mark was still for a moment. Studying him carefully. Seeing the man’s eyes coming into focus, completing the full picture of his face. And something about it caught Mark’s attention. Not just because he was good-looking but some other reason. As if Mark had seen his face before. “How did you find these...” his voice trailed off.

Jinyoung took a breath. “She saw you at the hospital when you came to meet her daughter. The girl’s mother. You didn’t see her but she saw you. She said that you had blonde hair then and a UCLA shirt and a cross tattoo on your calf. She said you looked nervous but kind. And it helped. Knowing that she was going to someone who was kind.”

Mark remembered that day. How he wore his favorite softened shirt. How nervous he was. 

Mark looked at Jinyoung, still not believing him. But there was something there. And he couldn’t figure out what it was. He couldn’t solve this mystery in his head. “What is the point of all this?” he asked softly. “What’s in it for you?”

“What do you mean?” Jinyoung furrowed his brows. Strife intersecting his soft features. “She’s my daughter.”

Mark scoffed. “Even if she was,” he said, stomach immediately flipping at the thought of that. “Even if you were… related to her in some way. It took you six years to come over here? What does that say about you?”

Jinyoung stood there. And it was the first time that day that he seemed to shrink back. His eyes speaking volumes. Looking visibly hurt. Defocusing before refocusing again. Voice coming out soft. “If you just listened-”

Mark felt himself reach his limit again. “You know what,” he smiled, tightly. “I’ve decided I don’t really care whatever lie you’ve come up with. So I’m going to keep these,” he held up the pictures in his hand. “And you are going to kindly see yourself back to the other side of the Pacific Ocean.”

“Mr. Tuan-”

But before the man could finish, Mark slammed the door in his face.

He went back to his desk, sitting down. Looking down into his hands and seeing the pictures. Wondering who this man was. And for a moment, he knew he should probably call the cops. Let them piece apart this mystery so he didn’t have to. But he thought back to the man’s face. The look in his eyes. The curious way in which he studied Mark’s face. And there was something so distressingly familiar about it that he couldn’t place. And his mind flashed for a moment. To the thought he didn’t want to think. What if the man wasn’t lying?

He pushed it down. Or at least he tried his best to. Trying to return to his work but it was no use. His focus had been derailed and nothing could occupy his mind but Jinyoung’s face. So he sat for a long while, thinking and thinking and thinking. Until he rushed to his feet, grabbing his car keys and driving to the nearest drugstore.

\---

The next day, around lunchtime, the doorbell rang again. And Mark walked himself to the front door, opening it and seeing Jinyoung on his front step.

Mark looked at him, sighing. “Are you just going to keep showing up here, then?”

Jinyoung’s eyes looked wide and hurt. “Until you let me talk to you.”

Mark licked his lips, holding his breath for a long moment before moving aside. “Then, come in.”

Jinyoung looked at him, that wide eyed hurt being replaced with surprise. Like he couldn’t believe what Mark had said. 

Mark pursed his lips. “Before I change my mind and call the cops on you,” he hurried.

Jinyoung came in, looking up around him at the house. The tall ceilings and the white modern design. The living room that overlooked the backyard pool. “What kind of work are you in?” he asked, mouth hanging open.

And Mark knew that he was well off but it didn’t make him feel good to have this stranger in his house gawking at his things. “I work in the entertainment industry,” he said, vaguely.

“Do you act?” Jinyoung looked back at him with wide eyes.

Mark’s brows creased, not understanding why the man would assume that. “No,” he shook his head. “I translate movies and tv for Chinese audiences. Sit down,” he beckoned to the couch.

And Jinyoung looked stiff as he sank into the cushions. Face still blank with surprise.

Mark sat down across from him. Feeling his eyes on him. The silence surrounding them. “So,” he started. “What’s the story?”

Jinyoung shook his head, “It’s not a story. It’s the truth.”

Mark swallowed. “I think I’ll be the judge of that.”

The man’s shoulders dropped with a sigh. He flattened his mouth into a straight line. “My name is Jinyoung Park. I’m an actor in South Korea.”

“An actor?” Mark furrowed his brows, suddenly understanding why he had asked before.

“Yes,” he nodded. “You can look me up online. I’ve been in a few things.”

Mark went silent, making a mental note to do that later. Before beckoning him to continue.

Jinyoung’s hands knitted together. “When I was twenty-three, my girlfriend at the time broke up with me,” he started. “And she didn’t give me any explanation as to why. All I knew was that she moved to America and by the time she moved back, she had blocked me and made sure we wouldn’t run into each other. So I never got the explanation I was looking for.”

Mark thought back, remembering what his agent had said. About how the mother had come to America to have the child.

“But last month,” Jinyoung continued. “She got married. To someone who I hear is a really great guy. And so I reached out and got her a wedding gift and sent my congratulations to her. And in response, she wrote me a letter.”

Jinyoung opened his bag, taking out an envelope and unfolding its contents onto his lap before passing it over.

“She told me about the baby. Which was apparently why she had broken up with me. And she attached the baby’s file. As you can see,” he pointed to the paper. “The child’s name had been blocked out by the agency for privacy but all the other information was there. And she also gave me the letter you wrote, the photos of your family. And so I knew your name and that you lived in Los Angeles. And I started looking for you. Which is what led me here.”

Mark looked down at the contents. Trying to understand the influx of information. Piecing it together. “So,” he squinted up at him. “You didn’t know about her until last month?”

Jinyoung licked his lips. Mouth opening for a moment before the word came out, “No, I didn’t know.”

Mark looked back down to the papers. His mind running through every possible scenario for why he might have all of this. “You have to understand,” he finally said, voice slow. “This is quite hard to believe. Especially after six years of no contact from her birth family.”

“I know,” Jinyoung nodded. “But what other way could I even tell you? How else would you believe me?”

Mark looked at him. Hating when he saw what Jinyoung meant. Because there was no better way to try and tell someone this. Even if Mark was reluctant to believe him.

“Wait here,” he said, putting the papers down and getting up. He went to his room, pulling out a box from his drawer and coming back out. He sat down on the couch. “I’m… I need you to take this,” he pushed it towards Jinyoung.

And the letters across the box spelled it out. A paternity test.

Jinyoung studied it carefully. “Where did you get this?” he narrowed his eyes.

“At the drugstore,” Mark shrugged.

Jinyoung shook his head in disbelief. “They just sell these?”

“Welcome to America.”

Jinyoung took out the contents of the box, eyes going wide. “What do I do?” he asked, totally lost.

Mark sighed. He reached forward, grabbing a long swab. “Open this. Rub it in your cheek,” he said. “I’m going to mail it off and they’ll get back to me with the results in a week.”

Jinyoung flipped the swab in his fingers. “What about hers?” he asked.

Mark folded his arms over his chest. “I already did it,” he sighed. Hating thinking back to the night before and how he’d try to pass the activity off as a teeth cleaning ritual. Making it into a game. And Mark knew it was a harmless lie but it didn’t help him feel any less guilty as he lay awake that night.

The corners of Jinyoung’s mouth tugged up a little. A small smile that went all the way up to his eyes. “So you did believe me?”

Mark studied his face, caught up in each little feature. His brightened eyes. His full mouth. The slightest indentation of a dimple on his cheek. “No,” he shook his head, pulling himself out of his thoughts. “I didn’t believe you. I _don’t_ believe you,” he rushed to say. “But if this is what it takes to prove it to you, so that we don’t have to keep reliving this interaction-”

“What about when it comes back positive?” Jinyoung interrupted, his bright eyes going defiant.

Mark glared at him. “ _If_ it does, I’ll call you. And we’ll see,” he said firmly.

Jinyoung sighed, unwrapping the swap and sitting back as he started to wipe it in his cheek. “What about your partner?” he tried to speak as he did it, lips pouting outwards. “Have you told them?”

Mark shook his head. “Didn’t you read the letter I wrote? I don’t have a partner.”

“Still?” Jinyoung asked. “I thought you just meant you didn’t have one yet.”

“No,” he said. “I’m raising her by myself.”

Jinyoung's face drew up, still rubbing the swab into his cheek. “Is that legal?”

Mark scowled at him. “Are you saying I couldn’t raise her by myself?” he asked. “That’s enough. Take it out.”

“No,” Jinyoung drew it from his mouth . “That’s just,” he licked over his teeth. “Not how it’s typically done where I’m from.” He handed it back to Mark.

Mark took it. “Well, again,” he said, putting it into the envelope and sealing it. “Welcome to America.” He shook the envelope. “Where can I reach you about this?”

Jinyoung grabbed a pen and scrap of paper from his bag. “Here,” he said, starting to jot something down and then handing it over. “It’s my number. I’ll be waiting.”

\---

The next week went by slowly. And there were periods of time that Mark managed to not think about Jinyoung, about the awaiting test results. But then randomly, the thought would come flooding back. Sometimes when Sunny called for him, saying he was the best dad in the world. Sometimes when he’d catch a glimpse of a family photo hung on his wall, the same one Jinyoung had been able to procure. Sometimes just by the way Sunny looked at him, leaving him to study her features and try to ignore the similarities he had started to see.

And pretty early on, he looked up Jinyoung’s name on the internet. The search results were teeming with content. Screencaps of the man in tv shows and movies. Interviews done in his native tongue. Clips of him accepting awards. And Mark wasn’t a stranger to the entertainment industry but he had never expected the man who showed up on his doorstep to be so high profile.

The next week, when picking up Sunny from Yugyeom’s house, he couldn’t take his own curiosity anymore. “Jaebeom,” he asked as Sunny was being called in from the backyard. “Can I ask you something?”

And the man nodded, “Yes, I think Mr. Choi is handsome.”

Mark blinked. “What?”

Jaebeom quirked his brow. “Isn’t that what you were going to ask?”

“No,” Mark shook his head. “Why would I-” he sighed. “Nevermind. I wanted to ask… I mean you grew up in Korea, right?”

“Yeah,” Jaebeom nodded. “I planned on moving back after school, but when Jackson and I met-”

“Right,” Mark clipped his thought. “Do you still watch any Korean media? TV? Movies? Anything like that.”

Jaebeom nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “I still watch them. Why? Is this about work?”

“Do you know this actor?” Mark opened his phone, showing Jinyoung’s search.

Jaebeom took the phone, looking at it. “Oh yeah,” he nodded. “Park Jinyoung. He’s huge over there.”

Mark felt his stomach flip. “How huge?”

“I mean,” Jaebeom huffed. “He’s in everything. He’s everywhere. He’s one of the most loved actors in Korea. Jackson loves his dramas.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, why?” Jaebeom asked. “How did you come across him?”

And Mark felt the rush of a lie on the tip of his tongue. “Just…” he shrugged. “Came across a show of his. Wondering if you knew him.”

“Which one?” Jaebeom asked, naming off random Korean titles to him.

“Uh,” Mark blinked. “The first one. I think.”

“Oh my god,” Jaebeom smiled. “That one’s my favorite. If you ever want to watch with us-”

And suddenly Sunny and Yugyeom were running up together. “I’ll let you know, Jaebeom,” Mark stopped him. “Sunny! Time to go home. Say goodbye!”

Thankfully, by the time the email from the genetics company came, Sunny was already asleep from a long day of school. Mark saw the notification, scrambling off the couch and pacing upstairs to his room. He shut the door. Feeling the race of his heart.

“There’s no way, Mark,” he told himself. “It’s just some crazy actor. He’s just looking for trouble. He’s not actually…” he took a breath. He walked over to the mirror, looking at himself. Desperate to calm his nerves. To stay strong. “You are her dad,” he told himself. “You have been her dad since the day she came into this world. And even if…” he breathed. “Even if this guy happens to have half her DNA… he is not the father. You are.”

And when he felt like he was strong enough to do it, he opened the email.

It was a long list of alleles and locus that Mark didn’t even know how to read. Lines of letters and numbers that all jumbled together in his head. So his eyes and thumb scrolled down, further and further.

_Probability of Paternity: 99.999995%_

“Fuck.”


	2. Two.

The sun was setting as Jinyoung sat on the couch. Quiet. Wide eyed. Catching all that Southern California saffron light. Staring at Mark, devastatingly curious. Hands fitted between his knocking knees. Waiting. For a judgement that was Mark’s alone to make.

But Mark wasn’t ready for this. And frankly, he wasn’t sure he would ever be ready for this. But it felt like a necessary risk. Something he had to do. If anything, just to move past it so that Jinyoung would be out of Sunny’s life as soon as possible.

He drew in a breath, not ready to use it to say the words he needed to say. “I-” he started, holding it in his chest for just a second more. “I’ve decided that you can meet her.”

Jinyoung’s wide eyes flicked like a switch. As if nothing in his expression had changed except the subtlest of sheens in his eyes that went from concern to pure brightness.

“But,” Mark stopped him. “There will be rules.”

And just like that, the shine dulled, giving away to concern again. And perhaps, a heavy dose of focus as well. 

And Mark was having the faint realization that all of these expressions felt easy to read because he’d seen them before. In his daughter. And that brought a pain to his chest that another deep breath wouldn’t dull.

Jinyoung licked his lips. “Okay,” he nodded, settling. “I’m ready.”

Mark held up a finger. “She is not to know who you are,” he said. “I will say you’re my friend and that’s it.”

Jinyoung nodded.

“You, under no circumstances, to me or her, will call yourself father, dad, daddy, or any variation.”

Jinyoung pursed his lips before nodding again. “I understand.”

Mark raised another finger. “You are not allowed to be alone with her. And you are not to touch her.”

Jinyoung blinked. Pausing. Comprehending. “Okay.”

Mark raised a third and final finger. “And after tonight, you will go back to Korea and leave my family alone.”

And Jinyoung’s eyes changed. Going unsettled again. Glassy and wide. 

And Mark felt a pang of guilt. The same as when Sunny would beg him for some more playtime before bed with a similar look. But there was something else in there that Sunny’s eyes didn’t hold. Something Mark could only assume was exclusive to Jinyoung alone. And he didn’t understand why it made his blood boil. “I want to make it abundantly clear that I am her father,” he said, nearly through gritted teeth. “Her _only_ father. Sunny is _not_ your daughter.”

Jinyoung blinked, not absorbing any of Mark’s hostility but instead tilting his head in question. “Sunny?”

Mark froze. Realising what he’d just said.

“Is that her name?” he asked.

Mark narrowed his eyes. “Yes.”

“ _You_ named her Sunny?” Jinyoung looked down to his hands, passively. Like making conversation.

“No,” he said, before scrambling to correct himself. “Well, yes. It’s a nickname.”

“For?”

“Haeseon.”

Jinyoung’s eyes shot up. “Haeseon?” he gulped, a look of encroaching panic consuming his handsome features.

“Yeah,” Mark glared. He sighed, not patient enough to ride the wave of Jinyoung’s reactions. “Why?”

“I just…” Jinyoung hesitated. “I didn’t expect her to have a Korean name.”

“It was the name her birth mom- I mean, your ex, I guess, chose. So I kept it,” he shrugged, feeling awkward. “It’s her heritage after all.”

Jinyoung didn’t respond, just kept studying him.

And Mark didn’t like feeling studied, judged. So he rushed to his feet and his words, “Are you ready then?”

Jinyoung looked up at him, face questioning. “Ready?” he asked.

Mark shrugged. “To meet her.”

His eyes went wide. “She’s here?”

“She’s working on her homework in her room.”

Jinyoung paused, a barely visible shake in his features. He gathered himself with a deep breath. “I’m ready.”

“Sunny!” Mark called. “Come out here please.”

And Mark could hear her door open. Her feet against the wood floors. And as the sound got louder, he could see the way Jinyoung’s chest got a little wider with each breath he was working to take.

Sunny came into the living room, her hair tied up into two little ponytails at the base of her neck. One turquoise blue and the other one bright pink. Her choice. She was still wearing her school clothes. Short denim overalls and a striped shirt that she’d insisted on getting because daddy had one just like it. And her eyes immediately went a little bigger at the sight of two people in the living room instead of one.

“Sunny,” Mark beckoned her over. Watching her come close enough for him to draw her into his lap. “This is my friend.” he started, hugging around her middle. “His name is Jinyoung. Can you say hi?”

She looked over to Jinyoung. “Hi,” she said, nodding. “Nice to meet you.”

Jinyoung stared at her. Completely frozen. His eyes doing that same thing they’d done to Mark but now maybe twice as hard as they took in every little detail of Sunny’s face. 

And Mark hugged her tighter, reminding himself that Jinyoung could look all he wanted but he wouldn’t be able to touch her. 

The man’s face softened a little as he came back into the moment. He nodded, “Nice to meet you, too, Sunny.”

Sunny looked over to Mark. “His voice is funny,” she said, softly.

Mark laughed a little. “He’s not from here,” he smiled.

“Where’s he from?” she asked, tilting her head.

Mark licked his lips. He didn’t want to say it. “Korea.”

Her little face screwed, “I’m from Korea.”

“Yes, you are,” Mark nodded. “And so is Yugyeom and Uncle Jaebeom and Jinyoung too.”

“Yugyeom?” Jinyoung piped up.

“Mmhm,” Sunny hummed, turning back to him. “He’s my best friend. Him and his dad are from Korea. But his other dad is from…” she thought, leaning up to Mark’s ear and whispering loud enough for Jinyoung to hear. “Where is Uncle Jackson from?”

“Hong Kong,” Mark smiled.

“Oh yeah.” She looked to Jinyoung, “What’s Korea like?”

He blinked, “You’ve never been?” His eyes went up to Mark, asking for confirmation.

“No,” Sunny shook her head, kicking her legs against Mark’s lap. “My dad says one day when I’m a little older we can go. Maybe with Yugyeom and his dads.”

“Well,” Jinyoung started, thinking slowly. “It’s very green. And there are mountains. And fields. Seoul is a big city. Where there are many people and lots of delicious foods.”

“Are there kids?” Sunny asked.

Jinyoung’s mouth twitched up at one side, unconsciously. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Lots of kids and babies.”

“Do you have a baby?” Sunny asked. “Like Uncle Jaebeom has Yugyeom?”

That twitch of smile fell. Jinyoung’s eyes rose up to meet Mark’s. 

And Mark looked at him, firmly. Reminding him of the rules, wordlessly. 

Jinyoung swallowed. “No,” he shook his head. “I don’t have a baby.”

And Sunny’s mouth opened again, but before she could speak, Mark cut in. “Sunny,” he said. “Why don’t you tell us about school today? What was your favorite part?”

And whatever she had been about to say was forgotten about instantly as she started to recap her day. And she told them both how Mr. Choi had them play a game where they had to cover their eyes and guess different smells. Oranges, coffee, cinnamon, and pickles. But the last smell was something a lot harder. And no one could get it until Yugyeom started sneezing like crazy.

“Dogs, Dad,” Sunny looked up at him. “Remember? Yugyeom is allergic to dogs?”

“Of course, I remember,” Mark smiled, lying. “So, was it dog fur?”

“No,” Sunny giggled. “Mr. Choi brought his dog!”

“Really?” Jinyoung asked. “Does he have a big dog?”

“Nope,” Sunny shook her head. “He has a tiny little puppy. She had pretty white fur. And a little black nose. And her name was Coco.”

“Coco?” Jinyoung asked. “That’s a nice name.”

“Mhmm,” Sunny hummed, excited. “And Mr. Choi let me hold her. And she stayed still in my arms and Mr. Choi said it’s because she _really_ likes me.”

“Mr. Choi sounds nice,” Jinyoung smiled.

“He’s really, really nice,” Sunny nodded. “He’s the best teacher ever.”

“Better than Mrs. Davie?” Mark asked, standing her back onto the floor.

“Mrs. Davie was nice,” Sunny thought. “But Mr. Choi is more nice. More fun too.”

“Come with me, Sunny,” Mark called, getting up. “Come help me get dinner started.”

And Sunny followed him into the kitchen. “What’s for dinner?” she asked.

“Pasta,” Mark responded, taking a pot out and starting to fill it with water. “Go into the pantry and grab me the noodles.”

Sunny did but got distracted, looking back into the living room with the box of pasta under her arm.

Mark caught her, calling out. “Sunny,” he said. “Bring it here.”

And she took her eyes off the living room, coming up beside him at the stove.

But something in her expression had gone suddenly off. “What’s wrong?” Mark asked, taking the box from her hands and putting it down onto the counter.

“Is Jinyoung staying?” she asked.

“No,” Mark shook his head. “I’m only making enough for Sunny and Daddy.”

Sunny’s expression didn’t change. “Can he stay for dinner?”

Mark felt his stomach turn. He stopped, squatting down to her level. “Why?”

She looked away, going timid. “I don’t know,” she said. “He looks a little sad. Maybe he’s hungry.”

And if it had been anyone else, Mark would have smiled. Would have praised her for thinking of someone else and said of course. But this wasn’t anyone. This was Sunny’s birth dad who Mark wanted as far from his home as possible. “Sunny,” he sighed.

And her eyes turned to him. That glassy, wide-eyed look that he’d seen mirrored in Jinyoung. But it was so much more devastating in her.

He wore his teeth against his lip, thinking to himself. Know that at this point, Jinyoung staying a little longer would be harmless. As long as he followed the rules, Sunny was safe. So Mark broke. “Yeah… he can stay if he wants to,” he said, standing back up. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

He followed Sunny back out, standing in the doorway of the living room as his daughter stood in front of Jinyoung. Her hands behind her back as she swung between her feet, asking if he likes pasta. If he would want to stay and eat pasta with them.

And Mark couldn’t see Jinyoung’s face but he saw the way he kept his hands in his lap. Withholding himself from reaching out as he agreed to stay.

He made enough pasta for all of them. And they ate together, Jinyoung asking Sunny about her favorite foods and the places she liked to visit and her most watched movie. And Mark watched as the actor kept the conversation going, making her laugh, and listening, really listening to everything she said.

When they had finished eating, Jinyoung helped bring all the dishes to the sink. “Thanks.”

“Thank you,” Jinyoung nodded. “It was great.”

And Mark wasn’t sure if he meant the food or the company but regardless, he knew what was next. “It’s getting kind of late,” he sighed. “You might want to head out.”

And Jinyoung was still, looking at him. Wide eyes like he was begging. But he couldn’t manage it with his mouth. “Okay,” he nodded, unwillingly accepting it. “I understand.”

Mark suddenly felt all of that anger and resentment leave, feeling only the quiet guilt stay. “Let us walk you out,” he said, calling for Sunny. He walked him to the front porch. And the low buzzing light, he watched the way he looked to Sunny. As if he was trying to memorize her, knowing it might be the last time he was able to. Mark stood in the doorway, Sunny at his side. He touched her shoulder. “Say bye to Jinyoung,” he motioned towards him.

“Bye, Jinyoung,” she said.

Jinyoung crouched down. “Bye bye, Sunny,” he said, mouth smiling, but his eyes sad. 

And before Mark could stop her, Sunny was rushing forward and wrapping her arms around Jinyoung’s neck.

The man froze, his eyes going wide before they tracked up towards Mark. Looking at him nervously.

Mark tightened his mouth, nodding. Allowing it.

Jinyoung carefully raised his arms, letting them go to Sunny’s back to hug her. His head falling against her shoulder. 

Mark watched Sunny hug Jinyoung. Feeling the moments pass like minutes. His mind raced. Piecing together this image of them. And somewhere deep down, it made him so mad. To see this man walk into his house with his daughter’s face and think he had any right to her. But there was another part of Mark, somewhere even deeper, that felt something else. Something hard to describe. But as he tried to place it, like smell or a flavor from the past, all he could think of was the first time he had held Sunny. How bright and warm and small she had been. And how incredible it had felt to know that she was his baby. 

Watching them, he realized that this was Jinyoung’s first time holding her. And though she wasn’t nearly as small, she must have still felt just as bright and warm. But the clearest distinction was that no matter how tightly Jinyoung hugged her, she wasn’t his baby. And he had each of those six years without her clutched between his arms as a reminder of all he missed. 

Maybe it should have made Mark feel prideful, triumphant over Jinyoung. Because Mark was Sunny’s real dad. The one that had always been there. Putting everything he ever did into her.

But it didn’t. Because he was remembering that Jinyoung didn’t give her up. He didn’t push her out of his life, but rather, he was never allowed into hers. He never knew about her until last month.

And before Mark could think, he called out. “Jinyoung.”

“Yeah,” Jinyoung hurried to draw away from Sunny. His eyes looking up, the glossiness of them catching the porchlight.

Mark crossed his arms over his chest. Distantly aware of Sunny’s eyes on him too. Not looking at her. Scared of what those two faces side by side would make him feel. “Would you want to…” he sighed, struggling for the words. “Maybe come back? Tomorrow?”

The corners of Jinyoung’s mouth pulled up into a smile. Reaching his eyes again in that painfully familiar way that Mark kept pushing down. “Yeah,” he nodded. “I would.”

Mark shrugged, “Maybe around lunchtime.”

Jinyoung stood up. “Okay. I’ll come then.”

“Okay,” Mark reached out to his daughter. “Sunny,” he said, drawing her a little closer. “Say bye. Say see you then.”

“See you then, Jinyoung,” she waved.

“See you then, Sunny,” he said, his smile and chest wide as he waved back. And as he walked to his rental car, he didn’t take his eyes off her.

\---

The next day, Jinyoung came over. And he stood on the doorstep with his nice clothes and his handsome face and a small pot in his hands. A spikey little plant nestled inside.

“What is that?” Mark asked, looking down at it.

“It’s a cactus,” Jinyoung offered. “For your house.”

Mark took it. “Thanks,” he said, confused. “I guess.” Before inviting him in.

The three of them made lunch together. And it was surreal. Surreal to watch Jinyoung and Sunny interact. He was polite, cognizant. Always keeping a small distance, even if it meant stepping back from her when she’d rush to show him a toy or a drawing. But even without touching, his focus would be centered on her. Quick to ask her questions. To make her laugh. To serve her food before his. 

And Sunny so readily let him in. Not that she knew any different. Sunny was always friendly with strangers, so Mark wasn’t surprised by the way she blossomed in his presence. Chatty and giggly and warm and inquisitive. Prodding him about his life and his thoughts and his friends and his family. Questions that Jinyoung was able to navigate with ease. Maybe some of that actor training making it easier for him to think on his feet, dancing around any responses that would lead Sunny’s questions towards topics forbidden by Mark’s rules.

After the table was clear and the dishes were washed, they all sat together in the living room to watch a movie that Mark had already seen three times. So he resigned himself to cuddling his daughter close in his lap until she squirmed away to play with her toys on the carpet in front of the television. He watched how Jinyoung slowly relaxed into the couch as the movie played out. Until it was the last musical number and Jinyoung was laying down, watching how Sunny sang along under her breath. And as he watched, his eyes flicked up to Mark’s. And from the angle, all Mark could see was her. He averted his eyes.

“Thanks again,” Jinyoung said at the door when it was time to leave. “Today was great.”

Sunny was off cleaning up the mess of toys on the carpet. Her humming somewhere in the background.

“Of course,” Mark nodded. “Thank you for...” he thought. “Being understanding. With everything.”

“Mark,” Jinyoung breathed, smiling a little. “You’re protecting her. You’re doing your job. I can’t blame you for that.”

Mark looked at him. Trying to gauge the sincerity of his words.

Jinyoung licked his lips. “She’s amazing,” he said, before rushing to amend himself. “Not because of me. Because of you.” He took a deep breath. “You’re doing a great job,” he said. “A hell of a lot better than I could have ever done.”

Mark could see that he meant it. And it wasn’t much, but it didn’t change the fact that it made him feel warm with pride. “Hey,” he sighed. Leaning into the doorway, crossing his arms over his chest. Thinking and thinking. “Maybe I’ll call you. You know. If anything else comes up.”

Jinyoung brightened. “Okay,” he nodded. “I’ll be here.”

\---

The next week started. Sunny went back to school. Mark went back to work. But there was something that couldn’t be returned to normal. Not when Mark’s mind kept wandering. Thinking of Jinyoung. Unsettled. And he only lasted a few days before he knew. Knew that he couldn’t keep this bottled inside much longer. That he had to tell someone. And he couldn’t tell his family. He knew they’d panic. Scare him. Or worse, want to meet him.

No, there were only two people who he trusted enough to tell. So in the middle of the week, when he came to pick up Sunny from a playdate, he told Jackson and Jaebeom.

“What?” Jackson nearly yelped. “Park Jinyoung. The actor. Showed up on your doorstep?”

“Babe,” Jaebeom sighed. “I think we are missing the point here. He’s Sunny’s birth-”

“Don’t say it,” Mark stopped him. “I don’t want to hear that word.”

“Fine,” Jaebeom rolled his eyes. “But you said it went well. Spending time with him.”

“Yeah,” Mark winced. “I mean. As well as it could have. He seemed… nice. Respectful. Not like he was before I let him in.”

“What does he want?” Jackson asked, grimacing. “What’s his end goal here?”

“I’m not sure,” Mark sighed, rubbing his face and feeling tired from the conversation. “I just don’t know what to do. I mean sure, he seems trustworthy. Honest. But at the end of the day, I don’t know what he’s looking to get out of this.”

Jaebeom spoke up first. “Bring him over here.”

Mark looked up, “What?”

“Invite him over this weekend. We will have a cookout or something.”

Jackson narrowed his eyes, “If this is your ploy to get an autograph.”

“No,” Jaebeom scoffed, putting his arm around his husband. “We will size him up for you. Talk to him. Help you vet him.”

And Mark didn’t have a better idea so he called Jinyoung up that night and invited him over to his friends’ house. Jinyoung went immediately nervous, rushing to ask how he should prepare. Mark stopped him, promising him it was just a small gathering between close friends. But when the weekend came and Jinyoung came to the door with a small plant in his hands, Mark shouldn’t have been surprised.

“Come on,” he waved him in. “I’ll introduce you to Jackson and Jaebeom.” And he took him out to the deck, where Jaebeom was grilling and Jackson was setting out plates onto their table. “Guys,” he called, watching them turn. “I’d like you to meet, Jinyoung.”

Jackson was the first one to rush forward, nearly tripping. “Oh my god,” he reached out, shaking his hand. “So nice to meet you. Welcome. We are so glad you could make it.”

“Thank you for having me. You have a lovely home,” Jinyoung nodded, shaking his hand. He looked out at the backyard, spotting Sunny and Yugyeom playing. “Is that your son?”

“It is,” Jackson smiled. “Let me go get those two. We are just about ready to eat.” He rushed down the steps towards both of them.

“Nice to meet you,” Jaebeom came forward, shaking his hand. His eyes looked down to the plant Jinyoung was holding. He titled his head, “Is that for us?”

“Yeah,” Jinyoung smiled, shyly, offering it. “It’s a spider plant.”

“That’s… very thoughtful,” Jaebeom took it, setting it down on the table. “Please have a seat,” he motioned to the table. “Can I grab you something to drink?”

Just as Jinyoung was settling in, dinner was served. Conversations were had. Jaebeom and Jinyoung talking about Korea and where they had grown up and went to school while Jackson asked Jinyoung about how he was enjoying California and what he had been doing in his spare time. Jinyoung asked if Yugyeom understood Korean and when Jaebeom nodded, he started speaking to him. Asking him questions and letting him respond. And Mark watched, a little amused when Sunny leaned over and asked Mark what they were doing.

But some time after dinner, the kids went back to play and Jaebeom pulled Jinyoung away to show him some of the family’s pictures from their last trip to see his parents. And after they had been away for nearly an hour, they came back out, Jinyoung going to the backyard to play with Yugyeom and Sunny.

Mark sat on the deck, watching. “What do you guys think?” he asked, looking back to his friends.

“I mean,” Jaebeom sat down next to him with a sigh. “He sure is charming.”

“You know,” Jackson said, leaning across the table. “I thought he’d be more like his character in Autumn Streets but he’s actually more like his character in-”

“Jackson,” Mark stopped him with a roll of his eyes. “Not what I’m asking,”

Jackson grimaced, crossing his arms against the table. “Then what are you asking, Mark?”

“Do you think I can trust him?” he asked. “With Sunny?”

Jackson shrugged, “I mean I wouldn’t.”

“Why not?” Jaebeom asked, clearly taken aback.

“He’s an actor,” Jackson said, like it was obvious. “A great actor, but an actor nonetheless. And you know the scandals those guys get into. They get famous so young that it really stunts their personal development and next thing you know they are part of a goat sex trafficing ring.”

Jaebeom scoffed, “And yet, I’ve never seen his name in a tabloid for anything less than charity work. The guy is as scandal-free as they come.”

“Um,” Jackson furrowed his brows. “I think you are forgetting about his biggest scandal. She is just over three feet tall, yellow Vans, currently playing with our son?”

And the three of them stopped, looking out to the yard to watch Sunny and Yugyeom giggling and yelling as they chased Jinyoung across the grass.

Mark slapped Jackson’s arm. “Don’t call my daughter a scandal.”

“Ow,” Jackson recoiled. “I’m just saying,” he whined, rubbing his arm. “Plus I mean, if he’s an actor, how can you know he’s not just playing you?”

Mark narrowed his eyes. “Why would he be?”

“I don’t know,” Jackson shrugged. “To get to Sunny? Maybe to try and get her back?”

Mark’s stomach suddenly turned over all that food he’d just eaten in one big motion. Feeling the blood drain from his face.

“Yah,” Jaebeom reached over, hitting Jackson’s other arm. “Don’t put ideas in his head.”

Jackson yelped again, drawing away. “He asked me,” he argued. “I’m just being honest.”

“No,” Jaebeom countered. “Honest would be saying that he’s nice and it seems like Sunny has fun with him. What you’re being is presumptive.”

Jackson scoffed. “Then what do you think, Jaebeom?” he challenged. “You and him stepped away for a while.”

Jaebeom calmed. “He’s a good guy, Mark,” he said, watching the lawn.

Mark waited for him to say more. Sighing when he didn’t. “Care to elaborate,” he motioned for him to continue.

Jaebeom shrugged, “It’s not my place.”

Mark’s shoulders fell. “That doesn’t help me,” he said, gruffly. “Is there some Korean bro code that I don’t know about?”

“No,” Jaebeom shook his head. “He’s just… I mean what answer are you looking for?”

“What?”

“You don’t seem satisfied with either of our answers. Like maybe you want a reason not to trust him but you also want a reason to,” he stopped. “But what do _you_ think of him?”

“I…,” Mark thought for a moment, finding it impossible to sort the two sides of himself apart. The logical side who could see the effort Jinyoung was making, the time he was trying to get back. And the emotional side who could only see a man threatening to take away everything Mark had worked so hard for. He looked back to the lawn, watching Jinyoung's smile as he dodged the children's attacks. He sighed. “I don’t know yet.”

\---

It was nearly another week before Mark saw Jinyoung again. Until Sunny came home from school and was doing her homework at the table. Slowly reading out the words and letting Mark correct her as he cleaned out her backpack. And when he went to get her lunchbox, he found a folded note inside. _Mr. Tuan_ inscribed across the front of it.

“Sunny,” he asked, holding it up between his fingers. “What is this?”

“Oh,” she stopped reading out loud, looking up from her workbook. She shrugged. “Mr. Choi said to give that to you.”

Mark frowned, opening it up.

_Looking forward to our meeting tonight! - Mr. Choi_

And it was only then that he realized he forgot about his check-in with Sunny’s teacher. He looked at the clock, seeing he only had roughly an hour till he had to be at the school. He cursed under his breath. 

“I heard that,” Sunny piped up.

Mark ignored her, rushing to grab his phone and starting to dial.

“Hello?”

“Jaebeom!” he gasped, rushing through his words. “I’m so sorry. I know you are probably busy. And I’m really, really sorry to spring this on you last minute but things have just been crazy with Jinyoung and with work and starting school and I totally forgot I have my meeting with Mr. Choi tonight and-”

“Wear the gray pants,” Jaebeom said calmly.

“I-What?”

“Isn’t that why you’re calling?” he asked. “You don’t know what to wear?”

Mark paused. “No,” he said. “I’m calling because I have no one to watch Sunny. Are you guys free?

“Bad news is no, we can’t do it tonight,” Jaebeom said, pausing for a moment. “But good news is you already have someone to watch her.”

Mark was silent, confused and waiting for him to continue.

“Jinyoung,” Jaebeom said, simply.

Mark felt a sudden rise of anxiety that made him clench around the phone. “Jaebeom,” he said under his breath, walking himself down the hall where Sunny couldn’t hear him. “No. I’m not doing that.”

“Why not?”

Mark leaned his head against the wall, trying to calm himself down. He sighed, “I made a rule that they couldn’t be alone together.”

“Why?” Jaebeom asked, sounding perplexed.

“I don’t know,” Mark groaned. “I just-”

“Needed to exercise some control.”

Mark turned, slumping down against the wall. Hating being called out. “Maybe.”

Jaebeom sighed through the phone. “You need someone to watch her. You know someone who would be thrilled to do it. Seems like a pretty easy call to me.”

Mark hugged his knees close. Imagining vividly Jinyoung in his house, alone with his daughter. Playing with her and cooking with her and laughing with her. And it didn’t feel right. In fact, the whole situation felt suffocating. Like he knew Jaebeom was right, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. “Jaebeom,” he gulped, his voice low. “I don’t like it.”

“Why?”

He felt himself struggle to take a breath. “It’s scary.”

Jaebeom spoke softly. “Hey. Don’t be scared. It’s okay,” he soothed, his voice holding all that comfort that Mark had seen him use on Yugyeom when he fell or cried or whined. “It’s okay. I promise it’s okay.”

Mark tried to breathe, calming himself down. Telling himself to be rational. That it was only one night. That there was nothing that could happen. That Jinyoung hadn’t carelessly misused Mark’s trust so far. So there was no remaining argument except Mark’s own stubbornness. 

He sighed. “Okay,” he nodded. “I’ll call him.”

By the time Jinyoung was ringing the doorbell, it was dark out and Mark was throwing on a jacket, ready to leave for his meeting. He got the door, seeing Jinyoung standing on his doorstep. Politely smiling but dressed more comfortably for once in jeans and a t-shirt. And between his hands, he held a plant. Green and leafy with a vine cascading downwards.

“Hey,” he said, extending the small pot towards him. “I got you a pothos.”

“Oh,” Mark breathed, taking it. “You did.”

“Just… you know. To say thank you.”

Mark didn’t know what to say, so he just brought the plant inside, letting Jinyoung follow. “Thanks again for doing this,” he put the pot down on a table in the entryway. “Sorry, it was so last minute.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Jinyoung said, before his eyes grazed over Mark. “What are you all dressed up for anyway?”

“Oh,” Mark looked down at his outfit. Suddenly feeling exposed. Wondering if Jaebeom had been wrong about the gray pants. “Um,” he stuttered. “I am just meeting with Sunny’s teacher. We have our first check-in of the year.”

Jinyoung huffed, one side of his mouth pulling up into a smirk. “You wear cologne to meet with your daughter’s teacher?”

Mark felt himself go hot under his collar. Thinking instantaneously about the idea of Jinyoung smelling him. Not really piecing apart why it made him flush, but instead wondering if he had indeed been a bit heavy handed with his cologne. He shook away both thoughts, “I just… wanna seem put together.”

Jinyoung shrugged, “Who is more put together than you, Mark?”

He sighed, “Dual parent households.”

Jinyoung’s eyes went soft and it looked like he had a response ready but as soon as he opened his mouth, Sunny was there, wrapping herself around his legs. “Jinyoung,” she smiled, looking up at him. “You’re here!”

“Hey, Sunny,” he said, hesitating before touching her hair.

And Mark watched, not able to raise a concern. Because intrinsically, he knew that some of those rules he had created had to be bent tonight. But some of them still needed to stand. And he hoped that Jinyoung knew the difference.

He looked at his watch, “I’m sorry. I really got to go.” He drew in a breath. “You’ll be okay? With her?”

Jinyoung smiled, looking down to her again. “We’ll be fine. Right, Sunny?”

And it shouldn’t have hurt. For Jinyoung and Sunny to be a ‘we’ that didn’t include him. Yet it still did.

“Yup,” she said. “Come on. I want to show you what I made today,” and she started to pull his hand away.

“Have fun,” Mark called after them. Trying not to sound bitter.

“You too!” Jinyoung smiled back at him, before disappearing around the corner.

\---

By the time Mark found his way to Mr. Choi’s classroom, the school was completely vacant and dim. Only a few emergency lights overhead. And the teacher himself was sitting at a small grouping of desks, looking over notes on his clipboard. His round glasses sitting low on his nose as he concentrated.

“Hello,” Mark said from the doorway.

Mr. Choi looked up, his face brightening. “Mr. Tuan,” he smiled. “Please come in. Have a seat,” he motioned to the chair beside him. “How are you tonight?”

“I’m good,” he nodded, sitting down. “How about yourself?”

“I’m great,” Mr. Choi crossed one leg over the other, pushing his round glasses up with a smile. “You’re actually my last meeting of the night.”

“I sure hope so,” Mark looked to the darkened windows. “It’s way too late for you to still be here.”

“Well,” the teacher shrugged. “How about we make this quick and get out of here a little early? How does that sound?”

They talked for a while about class updates. About the lessons they would start covering, an upcoming field trip, the plans for winter holidays approaching in a few months, a class play they would be having in the spring. And Mark nodded along, listening patiently as he looked over the schedules and handouts that Mr. Choi had prepared, asking questions and signing off where he needed to.

“Now, for Sunny’s personal assessment,” the teacher said, shifting gears and papers in his lap. He looked up, smiling wide already. “She is just amazing. Just as promised by her last teacher.”

Mark smiled immediately. Hearing the sincerity in Mr. Choi’s voice when he spoke.

“She’s really excelling in her reading already. I’m keeping her challenged but I can already see how she’s been surpassing many of the students in that area. And she’s very confident in being able to read aloud. She takes great pride in it.”

And Mark nodded, knowing how hard she had been working on her phonics homework. How eager she had been to show off her new skills. “We’ve been practicing reading a little bit every night.”

“It shows. She works hard. And she’s self-assured in her skills,” he said. “Something she no doubt learned from her father.”

And the comment shouldn’t have struck Mark with anything except pride in his daughter. But something about the way he had left Sunny at home with Jinyoung made it hit differently. “You know she’s adopted, right?”

Mr. Choi looked up, eyes going wide behind his glasses. As if he had misstepped somehow and was trying to figure out how. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Mark shrugged. “It’s just. Well. Maybe she doesn’t get those qualities from me.”

Mr. Choi’s voice went soft along with his eyes, “Did you ever meet them? Her birth parents?”

And Mark felt that similar feeling he’d felt when Jinyoung had smelled his cologne earlier. Overexposed and vulnerable and not wanting to address why. And before he could begin to unpack how to explain his current situation, he rushed to the lie. “No,” he shook his head.

“Do you think…” the teacher thought. “That maybe Sunny might want to know them one day? Just to understand where she came from?”

And Mark grew even more nervous. Because he hadn’t ever really considered the idea. Before Jinyoung had walked into his life, Sunny’s parents felt so distant. People from another country who weren’t interested in being involved. And because of that, Mark never really considered that Sunny could ever find them, even if one day she wanted to. But now, knowing what he did, it made him reconsider. Because sure, she was too young now to have an informed opinion about what was going on, but one day she would. Would she be happy with how Mark was handling this?

“I’m sorry,” Mr. Choi said when too much silence had passed. “That was inappropriate of me to ask.”

Mark pulled himself from the thought, refocusing. “Maybe we shouldn’t get sidetracked,” he forced a smile. “We need to get you home from your long day.”

The teacher’s face let go of some of that nervousness in favor of a small smile. “I mean that’s pretty much it. When it comes to academics, she’s great,” he said. “It’s honestly difficult to find something to nitpick about her.”

“Come on,” Mark scoffed with a smile. “You must have something.”

Mr. Choi thought for a moment. Hesitating before speaking. “She can be a little ...stubborn?”

Mark darkened a little. “Yeah,” He looked down into his hands. “She gets that from me,” he said. “My mother says it’s because I spoil her.”

“It's interesting,” Mr. Choi said, eyes going quietly bright. “Because when I say that she’s stubborn, you immediately blame yourself. And yet when I said that she’s smart and confident and hard-working, you were quick to question whether that was from you.”

And Mark went quiet. “I hadn’t thought about it like that.”

Mr. Choi shrugged. “As a teacher, I’m kind of in the business of nurture over nature. So all I see is that fact that she’s your daughter. And that she learns from you more than anyone. And when she’s excelling in everything she does, genes can’t account for all of that. Genes can’t account for you sitting with her every night and helping her work on her reading.”

Mark felt himself warm. 

“So, pat yourself on the back every once in a while,” Mr. Choi said. His smile so bright and honest in the low light of the classroom. “And respectfully, your mother’s wrong. Sunny is anything but spoiled.”

Mark felt that bright, contagious smile rubbing off on him. “Thank you,” he nodded. “I’m sorry this took a weird turn.”

Mr. Choi shrugged. “I play therapist sometimes. Usually for crying six years olds, but I think just this once I can make an exception.” He looked back behind his glasses, the brightness a little different now.

Something about it made Mark draw in a breath. “Am I excused then, Mr. Choi?”

The teacher smiled, “You are excused,” he nodded. “Actually, I’ll head out with you.”

Mark waited for him to pack up his bag, walking back through the school towards the parking lot.

“You have someone watching Sunny tonight?”

“Yeah,” Mark said, hand going to the back of his neck. “Just a friend.”

“A close friend?” the teacher raised an inquisitive brow.

Mark couldn’t explain the small sweep of nerves in him. “Yugyeom’s dads,” he lied, staying consistent.

Mr. Choi smiled. “Oh, of course.”

They reached the parking lot, Mark instinctively walking towards his car and Mr. Choi following. “What about your kid at home?”

“My kid?” the teacher quirked his brow.

Mark laughed. “The one Sunny won’t stop raving about. Coco, I believe?”

“Oh,” he laughed. “Yeah, she’s alone. Probably mad that she’ll be having a late dinner.”

Mark stopped at his car. “Well, best not keep her waiting any longer.”

Mr. Choi turned towards him, “Have a good night, Mr. Tuan.”

Mark felt something subtle in his tone. A warmth that may have been there intermittently before but now, standing opposite each other in the darkened parking lot, it felt unignorable. “You can call me, Mark,” he offered.

And while the light was low, Mark could have sworn he saw a dusting of pink peak Mr. Choi’s ears. “Alright, Mark,” he beamed. 

Mark felt the desire to take a step forward that he couldn’t explain. But he fought it, instead leaning up against his car door. “What can I call you?”

“Mmmm,” the teacher hummed, crossing his arms across his chest with a smirk. “I think I’m going to keep Mr. Choi for a little longer. Though what kind of message does that send about me?”

Mark slid his hands into his pockets. He shrugged, “You have all that power. You may as well exercise it.”

The teacher cocked his head to the side, eyes vibrant. “Over you?”

And Mark felt himself at a loss for words. His mouth falling open. Trying to piece together something to say. Anything.

Mr. Choi licked at the smirk against his lips, before taking a step back towards his own car. “Have a good night, Mark. See you around.”

\---

Mark couldn’t explain why he smiled the whole drive home. He skipped in the front door, kicking off his shoes and tossing his keys. About to shout for his daughter to come greet him. But before he could, his eyes fell to the living room.

Jinyoung was asleep, stretched out along the couch. One arm hanging off the edge, a picture book folded between his fingers. But his other arm was wrapped around Sunny’s middle as she slept soundly against his chest.

Mark stepped closer, watching them. The steady rise and fall of Jinyoung’s chest against her head. And maybe it should have made Mark mad. Or jealous. Or hurt. And he didn’t know if it was the high he was still coming down from or something else but he didn’t feel any of those things. No, instead he just felt overwhelmed with a soft warmth that pooled in the low of his stomach. He smiled, watching for a moment longer before reaching out, wrapping his arms around Sunny’s middle to lift her.

Jinyoung stirred, blinking up at the sudden absence of pressure. His eyes going slightly wide. Mouth opening to speak.

Mark held a finger to his mouth, signaling him to stay quiet as he nestled Sunny’s head against his shoulder. And he carried her off to her room. He pulled away her covers, laying her down to tuck her in. Watching as her eyes didn’t open, only settling into the bed without waking. Mark smiled, brushing her hair away from her face as he leaned down to kiss her forehead. And as he watched her sleep, he felt eyes on him. He turned, seeing Jinyoung in the doorway of her bedroom. His arms folded against his chest, smiling. Handsome and soft. 

Mark felt himself smile too.

He turned back, smoothing down Sunny’s covers before turning off her light. He shut her door carefully, walking with Jinyoung back to the living room and having a seat. 

“I’m sorry,” Jinyoung sat down across from him. “I was reading to her and we both must have dozed off.”

Mark shrugged, “It happens.”

Jinyoung stretched, his t-shirt lifting up a little above the top of his jeans. “How was your meeting?” he yawned.

“It was good,” Mark nodded, smiling as the image of Mr. Choi popped back into his mind. “No surprise, Sunny’s teacher loves her.”

Jinyoung laughed. “What’s not to love?”

Mark looked at Jinyoung. The man’s eyes were still a little bleary, glossy and narrow. A far cry from the perfect actor he had seen on the internet. His country’s pride and joy, always thoroughly curated and styled and ready to be photographed. But Sunny didn’t know that. She didn’t laugh at his jokes or fall asleep on his chest because he was famous. But just because she liked him. And Mark must have been riding some wave of euphoria for him to be seeing Jinyoung like this. And for his next words to come out without hesitation. “She looks like you.”

Jinyoung blinked, like it surprised him too. He shook his head. “I don’t know about that,” he said, modestly.

Mark smiled. “Come on. You must see it.”

Jinyoung shrugged. “A little,” he nodded. Thinking for a moment. “But she’s not like me. She’s more… sensible than me. More self-assured. Self-reliant.”

“Hmm,” Mark hummed, thinking out loud. “Maybe she gets it from her birth mother then.”

“No,” Jinyoung said. “She gets it from you.”

Mark stopped, smiling. “Mr. Choi said something similar.”

“Sunny’s teacher?”

“Yeah,” Mark nodded. “Nice guy. Young, but... trustworthy.”

“Sounds like you like him.”

“I think I do,” Mark said quietly. Before realizing his words, sputtering, “As a teacher.”

Jinyoung watched him for a moment. His eyes studying him. Before he seemed to pull himself from whatever thought he was having. “Well, I should head out,” he said, hands feeling over his jeans. “It’s getting late and you have work tomorrow.”

“Jinyoung?” Mark bit his lips. Carefully choosing his next words. “What’s your plan? For staying in LA.”

Jinyoung’s brows creased, “What do you mean?”

“Don’t you have to go back? For work?”

“Yeah,” Jinyoung nodded. Pausing, considering. “But this is more important right now.”

Mark looked up at him. “When will it stop being important?”

Any hint of a smile was gone from Jinyoung’s face. His eyes still and holding Mark’s. A morsel of that familiar begging in them. “When I can’t see her anymore.” He started to get up.

“Jinyoung,” Mark reached out, grabbing his arm to stop him. Feeling a sudden rush. He slowly pulled his hand away. Nerves bubbled up in the pit of his stomach. But he couldn’t decide if they were good or bad. So he swallowed them down. “I know that commuting in LA isn’t the best.”

Jinyoung’s face went nervous. “It’s okay,” he said, voice a little higher. “I don’t mind.”

Mark licked his lips. He drew in a breath. “Why don’t you stay here for a while?”

Jinyoung’s eyes went wide like he had misheard him. “What?”

Mark shrugged. “I have a guest bedroom,” he said. “And I could use an extra set of hands around the house. And you know Sunny would love it.”

Jinyoung was quiet. Face still with shock. Processing for a long time before he nodded. “Okay.” 

“Tomorrow?” he offered, trying to portray a semblance of calm and collected, even if he had never felt farther from it. 

Jinyoung hesitated for a moment. Lips pursing and brows still folded in confusion. But he sat up straighter, nodding.  
  
“Tomorrow.”


	3. Three.

Mark and Sunny were halfway to Yugyeom’s house to pick him up for school when he finally had the courage to bring it up. It wasn’t that he was afraid of her reaction. It was more so that he felt lingering guilt for hastily making such a major decision without consulting her. And part of him just wanted to ignore it, but he knew this was too important to not give Sunny some level of agency in it. “Hey, Sunny Bunny?” Mark called to her, eyes flicking up in the rearview mirror. “Can we talk?”

Sunny was immediately staring back. Her face blank and pale and her eyes wide.

Mark furrowed his brows, “Baby, why are you making that face?”

Her expression stayed timid. “Is this about the plant?” she said, softly.

Mark paused. His voice dropping deeper as he narrowed his eyes at her in the mirror. “What about the plant?”

Sunny hands tightened around the ears of the stuffed pig in her lap. “I just wanted to keep it safe,” she said, voice whining. “I promise I’ll take care of it. I will make sure it gets sun and water and-”

“Where’s the plant, Sunny?” Mark asked, firmly.

“In my room. Next to my bed.”

Mark sighed with relief. “Thank you for telling me,” he acknowledged. “But it’s not about the plant.”

“Oh,” Sunny’s voice shrank a little. “Okay.”

Mark felt the stirring of nerves. Not able to pinpoint exactly what it was he was nervous of. Maybe just admitting out loud the perhaps short sighted decision he had made last night as he was still riding the endorphin wave of his meeting with Mr. Choi. “I was just wondering,” his hands gripped a little tighter around the steering wheel. “Did you and Jinyoung have fun last night?”

Sunny’s disposition changed, perking instantly. Swinging that stuffed pig back and forth by its ears. “Yep,” she nodded.

“What did you do?”

“Mmm,” she thought. “We watched movies. And played a game. And he read with me.”

Mark watched her again through the mirror. “So... what do you think of Jinyoung?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” Mark shrugged. “Do you like him?”

Sunny’s brows creased, hyperfocusing on pinching one of the pig’s beady little eyes between her fingers. “He’s kind of weird. But good.”

“Weird?”

“He talks weird,” Sunny said. “And sometimes he looks at me like I made a funny joke when I didn’t.”

“Hmmm,” Mark hummed. Thinking about the softness in Jinyoung’s features when he watched her. “I guess we will have to kick him out then.”

Her eyes panned up to his in the reflection, going wide. “Kick him out?”

Mark shrugged again. “I was going to have him stay with us for a little while,” he offered. “But if you think he’s weird, I’ll just tell him to find someplace else to stay.”

“No,” Sunny protested immediately. “No. I didn’t mean it. He can stay with us.”

“Oh yeah?” Mark smiled, turning into Yugyeom’s driveway. “You sure?”

“Yes,” she rushed to say.

Mark parked, turning to look behind him. “Okay,” he nodded. “When you get home from school, he’ll be there.”

She smiled brightly, wordlessly starting to unbuckle herself and push open the door. She started to shimmy herself out of her seat, before stopping. “Dad,” she said, solemnly. Her face had fallen again.

“Yes?”

Her wide eyes blinked. “Were you really going to kick Jinyoung out? Or was it just pretend?”

Mark smiled, holding back a chuckle. “Just pretend, baby,” he reached back holding her chin in one hand. “But I need you to be honest with me,” he said, getting serious for a moment. “Because it’s not just daddy’s house. It’s Sunny’s house too and-”

“Dad!” she bellowed, pulling away. “I want him to live with us!”

“Hey, hey,” Mark called, reaching out to grab her again. “Listen. Listen. I’m still being serious.”

Sunny calmed, looking back at him. Waiting.

Mark sighed. “I want you to know… that if there is any time when you don’t feel comfortable. Or anything happens that makes you feel weird or scared. Please, come tell Daddy. Okay? Because Jinyoung is my friend, but you are my daughter. And I will always believe you. And if you aren’t comfortable with him being there anymore, I will tell him to leave. No questions asked.”

“Dad,” she rolled her eyes.

“Tell me you understand. Promise me,” he said.

Her shoulders dropped. “I promise,” she mumbled. “But I really, really need to go. Because Yugyeom was supposed to get this new toy and he said that he would show it to me on the way to school and I really got to see if-”

Mark felt the smile pull against his face. He nodded. “Okay, okay,” he said. “Go.”

“Wait, Dad,” she said, eyes going wide. “Please don’t tell Jinyoung the plant is in my room. I want to show him myself.”

Mark motioned locking up his lips with a key. “Go, baby. Get Yugyeom. I don’t want us to be late.”

Mark drove the both of them to school, dropping them in the carpool loop with a blown kiss and a wave. He watched them run into school, before his eyes looked up through his passenger window. And he saw Mr. Choi approaching, the sight of him instantly setting off something in him. Like the fuse of a firecracker. He rushed to roll the window down.

“Hey,” the teacher crossed his arms over the edge of the window, leaning in. “I’m glad I caught you.”

“Yeah?” Mark’s fingers slipped around the steering wheel.

“Yeah,” Mr. Choi smiled, eyes squinting behind his glasses in the morning light. “I think I told you last night about the field trip coming up.”

“Mmhm,” Mark nodded, remembering not what he’d said about it, but instead the feeling of being pinned down by the teacher’s lively stare and quick words in the darkened parking lot.

“Well,” he shrugged, tossing his wavy hair from his face. “We still have a few spots open for chaperones. I’m sure Sunny would love for her dad to join us. If you have time that is.”

Mark swallowed. “Yeah,” he said, voice pitching a little too high. “I think I can make that work.”

“Great,” Mr. Choi breathed, he leaned away from the car. “I’ll send the details home with Sunny.”

“Alright,” Mark nodded. “Have a great day, Mr. Choi.”

“You too, Mark,” he waved.

\---

The doorbell rang around mid-day, causing Mark to pull away from his work to answer. And when he opened the door, Jinyoung stood on his front porch. A duffle bag in one hand, a clay pot in the other. Dark green waxy leaves sprouted upwards with a teardrop shaped white leaf reaching upwards from the middle.

Mark blinked down at it.

“It’s a peace lily,” Jinyoung smiled, offering it.

Mark took it, studying the plant more closely. Feeling the waxy leaves between his fingers. “Trying to say something?”

Jinyoung’s brows creased. “No.”

Mark looked out to the driveway. “Where’s your car?”

Jinyoung shrugged, “I turned it in and took a taxi. Figured I didn’t really need it anymore.”

“Hmm,” Mark hummed, thinking about the idea of driving Jinyoung around in his own car. Or maybe Jinyoung would want to be the one to drive? Was he a good driver? Could he trust him to- He stopped, getting ahead of himself. “Let me give you the tour,” he said as he turned, leaving the front door open for Jinyoung to follow him in. He showed Jinyoung around the house. The places he hadn’t really seen. The garage and the pool and Mark’s office and the laundry room and the bathroom, and, finally, the upstairs guest bedroom.

It wasn’t anything special. A bed and a dresser and all the other basics. Enough so that his parents could stay over when it got too late. Or Jackson and Jaebeom if they had indulged in too many adult beverages during a joint playdate.

“It’s nice,” Jinyoung said, putting his bag down onto the bed.

“Here,” Mark offered, placing the peace lily down on the dresser. “How’s that?”

Jinyoung smiled. “Perfect,” he nodded. “They prefer indirect light.”

Mark looked at him, his curiosities getting the best of him. “Why do you… “ he hesitated. “Always give people plants?”

Jinyoung took a seat on the bed, shrugging off his jacket. “I don’t know,” he said, folding it up with the utmost care. “I just like them.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah,” Jinyoung smiled, nervous. Fingers reaching up to feel at the nape of his neck. “They clean your air. They look nice. You can talk to them when you are lonely. Sing to them.”

“You sing to your plants?” Mark huffed.

“Sometimes,” Jinyoung shrugged, “I don’t usually have anyone else to sing for.”

Mark’s fingers brushed over the leaves again, now just to busy himself. “Do you live alone?” he asked.

Jinyoung nodded.

Silence fell between them. And there only seemed to be one logical path for the next question, but Mark didn’t want to ask it. So he fought the urge for only a moment longer before giving in. “I know…” he tried to choose his words carefully. “You were seeing Sunny’s birth mom before… but is there, you know. Anyone else now?”

Jinyoung’s tongue pressed into his cheek, averting his eyes to the carpet. “My work is… very particular. As you can probably imagine. It’s not easy to date.”

Mark shrugged, “It didn’t seem to stop you before.”

Jinyoung's face twinged with discomfort. “I was younger. Just starting out. It was easier to hide then. Not to say it was easy. But easier,” his eyes went distant, falling into a memory for a moment. “But it’s a lot harder now. So I haven’t really had the luxury of being able to explore my options. But that’s okay. It’s a small price for the work I get to do.”

Mark leaned up against the dresser, noting how diplomatic and prepared Jinyoung’s answer was. As if he always had it equipped for whoever tried to ask about his personal life. And Mark could relate. Because even if he didn’t have the same restrictions as a world renowned actor, he knew what it was like having a prepared answer for that question. And about how it felt to repeat it for so long that it became more and more like a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Jinyoung pulled himself away, looking up. His soft face and wide eyes nothing but open and gentle. “What’s your excuse?

Mark titled his head, “For what?”

“Being alone.”

Something in the wording didn’t hit right. Something about what it was insinuating. And Mark couldn’t quite catch why. Because only moments before, Mark had been able to empathize with their similar circumstances. And yet now, the sudden flip of the question made every defense go up. As if in response to that futile quest to always have the higher ground, all he could now focus on was their differences.

“I’m not alone,” he said, firmly. “I have Sunny.”

“Mark,” Jinyoung breathed, knowing immediately that he’d disturbed whatever momentary peace had been there. “I’m sorry. That came across wro-”

“Well, I should really get going,” Mark clapped his hands together, leaning up off the dresser and heading for the door. “I got to pick up Sunny from school.”

Jinyoung sighed, hanging his head for a moment. “Hey,” he stopped Mark as he was nearly out the door. “Do you… do you mind if I do some laundry? It’s been awhile and-”

“It’s fine,” Mark said, clipped. Trying to get away from him. “Everything you need should be down in the laundry room.”

\---

When Mark and Sunny got home, she took off, running into the house to presumably find Jinyoung. Mark was a little slower in following, until he heard Sunny’s scream. Immediately, he tensed, running inside and rushing to find her.

He didn’t expect to find her in the laundry room, completely unharmed. Just wearing a look of complete shock against her small features. Mark’s eyes followed, seeing the laundry machine open, spilling foamy suds onto the tile. And Jinyoung stood next to it, the mirrored expression of Sunny’s face staring down at the thick white suds that coated his hands as if they were covered in blood.

Jinyoung’s eyes met Mark’s. “I’m so sorry.”

“What happened?” he asked, assessing the scene again and again.

Jinyoung bent down, cupping more of the foam between his hands and pitching it into the sink. “I think I used dish soap instead of laundry detergent.” 

“How?” Mark’s eyes widened. He looked up to the shelves above the machines, pointing between the two different plastic bottle containers, “They are clearly marked.”

Jinyoung groaned, shoveling more into the sink. “I didn’t read them,” he sighed. “And really, how is that supposed to be dish soap? Dish soap is supposed to have a pump on it!”

“Not in America,” Mark shook his head.

Jinyoung sighed, defeated. Flinging the excess off his hands. “Well, it looks like Korean laundry detergent.”

Sunny giggled and they both looked down, watching her pick up the suds in her hands and blow them.

Jinyoung's face went soft for a moment before he sighed, looking back up to Mark. “I’m cleaning it up,” he nodded. “I’m almost done.”

“I’ll handle it,” Mark stopped him. “I have some laundry I need to do anyway.”

“It’s fine,” Jinyoung shook his head. “I can do it. It was my mistake.”

“Hey, Sunny,” Mark bent down towards his daughter. “Let Daddy clean this up and go show Jinyoung what you have in your room.”

“In my room?” Sunny looked up, still playing with the suds between her fingers.

Mark widened his eyes at her. “You know. The thing that’s growing,” he winked.

Sunny’s face sparked with realization. “Jinyoung,” she said, grabbing his hand with her soapy one. “Come here. Let me show you something.”

And Jinyoung sighed, looking at Mark like he knew what he was doing. “Fine,” he said, letting Sunny drag him. “Show me.”

Mark cleaned up the mess, he started a new load of Jinyoung’s clothes alongside some of his own. And when he was finished, he came back out to the kitchen to see Sunny sitting on her knees at the kitchen table, leaning over her homework while Jinyoung was standing at the sink, washing dishes.

“L-E-O,” Sunny called out. “P-A-R-D.”

“Sound it out,” Jinyoung replied, scrubbing at a glass.

“Leh,” Sunny whispered to herself. “Le-oh.”

“Jinyoung,” Mark sighed, leaning into the counter next to him. “You don’t have to do dishes like that.”

Jinyoung furrowed his brows. “Just let me,” he said, not looking up from his task.

Mark reached over, turning the water off.

Jinyoung took a deep breath, facing him. “Yesterday, you said you could use an extra set of hands. Isn’t this what you meant?”

Mark felt himself get a little defensive, shrinking into himself. “Well,” he fumbled for an excuse. “I didn’t… I don’t know. It was just something to say. I didn’t really mean that you had to do chores or any-”

“You are letting me stay here,” Jinyoung articulated. “You are working. And I can’t work your job for you, but I can do stuff like this. So just let me help.” His eyes intent. “Please. I can help,” he pleaded.

Mark bit at his lips. Seeing how hard he was trying. Practically begging to have some sort of involvement. To be trusted with something, no matter how tangential to Sunny it was. “Okay,” he nodded. “You can help.”

“Great,” Jinyoung sighed, relieved. He turned the water back on, rinsing the glass in his hand. “Tell me what you need. What do you usually do when she comes home?”

“Clean out her backpack. Make her a snack. Help her with homework,” Mark listed off.

“Okay,” Jinyoung nodded, “I can do that.”

“Lee-oh-pahrd?” Sunny asked, voice going up and tilting her head.

Jinyoung looked back to Mark. His face screwing to one side. “What is she saying?” he asked, softly.

Mark couldn’t hold back his burst of laughter, coming closer to look over Sunny’s shoulder. “Leopard, baby,” he said, rubbing her arm. “Like the big cat.”

“Oh yeah,” Sunny nodded, starting to write.

Mark looked up at Jinyoung, biting his lips. “Maybe I can stick to homework duty.”

Jinyoung rolled his eyes, “It’s the same word in Korean. It just… sounds different.”

Mark smirked, taking a seat next to her and starting to help her. Letting her sound each word out as she matched the letters together. And she was nearly done with the page when Jinyoung turned around at the sink.

“Mark?” he said, holding up a folded paper. “This was in her lunchbox,” his voice hesitant. “It’s addressed to you?”

Mark hurried to get up, reaching out and snatching it from his hand. “It’s nothing,” he rushed to say. “It’s just from her teacher.”

Jinyoung’s eyes were wide. “Do all American teachers send notes home like that?”

Mark scoffed, “He’s just friendly. He does it with all the kids. Probably.”

“Mhmm,” Jinyoung hummed, suspicious. “Do all the other parents get a winky face next to the ‘Can’t wait to see you there’?”

Mark felt his ears go hot. “It’s just for a field trip next week,” he shook his head. “He just needed some parents to volunteer.”

“Okay,” Jinyoung laughed, smile going wide and hands going up. “No need to get embarrassed.”

“I’m not embarrassed,” Mark bit out.

Jinyoung looked at him. Those round eyes studying his face closely, panning down and back up. Mouth moving slowly, “You’re blushing.”

Mark felt exposed and warm, even warmer. His eyes flicking down to the way Jinyoung’s mouth started to part. Corners drawing up in a pleasant little smirk.

Jinyoung chuckled, a dark little sound from deep in his chest. “You’re blushing harder now,” he said, voice going warm.

Mark swallowed, turning away. “Sunny,” he said, leaning towards her. “What do you want for dinner?”

“Mmm pizza,” she said, decisively. “Jinyoung, do you like pizza?”

“I do,” he said.

“Great,” Mark sighed. “I’ll order.”

They had dinner together. And it was a little weird. Because Mark was watching Sunny and Jinyoung together and realizing that this would be the new normal for a while. Not just the two of them, the way it had always been. But three. And it made him feel a little overwhelmed. Like maybe he hadn’t thought this through. Hadn’t understood exactly what he was asking for when he offered Jinyoung the guest bedroom.

But he also saw how wide Sunny was smiling, how loud she was laughing. Taking her and Jinyoung’s crusts onto her plate and assembling them to make a small tower. “Daddy,” she said, pushing it towards Mark. “It’s for you. You like the bones.”

“Bones?” Jinyoung laughed.

And Mark shrugged. “My grandpa always called them the bones of the pizza,” he smiled, shyly. “Thank you, Sunny Bunny,” he said, reaching out to grab at a crust and bite down. “Mmmm, the best part.”

“I’ll clean up,” Jinyoung standing and gathering the plates. “Sunny. Do you want to help?”

“Yup,” she said, jumping from her chair and following him to the sink.

Mark looked after them, sighing. Half content and half jealous. “I’m going to go check on the laundry,” he said, getting up and walking down the hall. He opened the dryer, dumping all the warm clothes into the laundry basket before, habitually, placing it on top of the machine and starting to fold. He folded a few of his shirts, matched a few socks together, before he came across something that caught his eye.

Bright red fabric that had him pulling it from the pile with a stretchy snap. Spreading them out between his hands, ready to fold them before he stopped. Studying them. They were a pair of boxer briefs. Short through the legs with a designer name printed against the waistband. And it took him a second to realize that they weren’t his. Which made him remember who else had their clothing in this load. And he froze when he realized that they were Jinyoung’s.

His hands didn’t move. Holding them there in front of him, eyes unable to pull away. Seeing the narrowness of the legs that tapered toward the bottom. The softness of the cotton that was still dryer warm between his fingertips. The way the seams came together, trailing down the front like arrows for his eyes. And perhaps, for a moment, completely unconsciously, unintentionally, he thought about Jinyoung’s body. He thought about how the actor had filled out those nice dress pants he kept showing up in when they first kept meeting. He distantly wondered if he had been wearing these underneath one of those first few days.

Or was it yesterday? When Jinyoung had been talking to Mark on the couch after they put Sunny to sleep. When he yawned, stretching his arms above his head until his t-shirt was riding up just enough to show a line of skin. And Mark hadn’t meant to register it. But nevertheless, it was on replay as he held up those underwear. Imaging the designer waistband tucked just below the top of those jeans, up against that smooth-looking skin at his hips.

Mark stopped himself. “Fuck,” he whispered. He put them down. “Don’t be fucking weird,” he said to himself. And he didn’t fold anymore of the clothes. Instead he just sorted out all of Jinyoung’s things quickly, throwing them into the basket and taking them up to the guest bedroom to dump them on Jinyoung’s bed. But he turned back, before he left, to messily shuffle the pile around, until the red underwear were safely hidden below the surface. Where Jinyoung wouldn’t have to know that Mark ever saw them.

\---

A couple of days went by. And though things were a new normal, they felt like that. Normal. Jinyoung falling into a pattern of taking care of daily chores and helping Sunny before and after school, while Mark worked and cooked meals and watched over them. Always listening from the next room, always watching from the corner of his eye. As if maybe he was waiting for Jinyoung to trip up in some way. To say the wrong thing or lose his cool, but he never did. He just stayed patient and friendly and helpful to Sunny. Yet, something in Mark just wouldn’t relax.

Mark was making Sunny’s breakfast one morning while she got her backpack together when he heard Jinyoung come down the stairs. He looked up to greet him.

“Good M-Oh shit,” Mark called out.

“Dad!” Sunny whined at his language.

And Jinyoung stopped in his tracks, eyes staring back wide in question.

Mark’s eyes weren’t on his face at all but instead on his chest, gaping at his t-shirt. At the heather gray material and the blue and gold letters spelling out UCLA. It was Mark’s shirt. His favorite shirt. 

Jinyoung looked down. “Oh my god,” he said, realizing. His hands instinctively crossing over his chest to cover the logo. “I’m so sorry,” he rushed to say. “I just pulled it from my clean clothes. I wasn’t paying attention,” he fumbled, starting to pull his arms through the sleeves to take it off.

And the hem of the t-shirt got about three inches up his stomach before Mark was nearly tripping forward. “Stop, stop,” he breathed, hands reaching for the hem of the shirt and tugging it back down, holding onto it for a moment of stillness as Jinyoung’s confused eyes drilled into him. “It’s fine,” Mark gulped, backing away from him. Trying to make his voice sound anything but as panicked as he felt. “I’ll just... I’ll get it next time I do laundry. It’s not a big deal.”

And in that moment, the doorbell rang.

Sunny gasped, getting up and pulling on her backpack. “Dad! Yugyeom’s here!” 

“Hey,” Mark said, firmly. “Take that breakfast with you. But be neat in Uncle Jackson’s car.”

“Yes, Dad,” she said, grabbing the toast off her plate and running for the front door.

Mark sighed, looking up at Jinyoung. “You tired of this yet?” he tried to joke.

Jinyoung breathed, his mouth pulling up into a brilliant smile. “Not one bit.”

Mark tried to suppress his smirk as he passed him, following his daughter towards the front door and overhearing her and Yugyeom talk on the front step.

“Sunny! There’s this cool bug in your driveway.”

“Then let’s catch it while your dad talks to my dad.”

“But Baba said no more bugs cause they scare him,” Yugyeom whined.

“Let’s just catch it. Maybe my dad can convince him. He’s not scared of anything,” Mark saw as she grabbed her friend’s hand, hauling him off towards the front yard.

Jackson bounded up to the front door, dressed in his nice work clothes, ready to head to the office after dropping off the kids. “Morning, Mark!” he smiled, taking off his sunglasses. “Sorry, I’m late. I was just-” he stopped, looking past Mark. Everything in him stiffening. “Oh... Hey, Jinyoung.”

Mark turned, seeing Jinyoung behind him, giving a small wave. “Good morning,” the man responded. “How are you doing today?”

Jackson blinked, awkward. “Fine,” he gulped. “Hey, Mark,” he turned back to his friend, eyes going a little wider. Trying to send a message. “Could I pull you aside for just a moment?”

“Uh,” Mark felt his stomach turn. Knowing instantly that he was about to get a firm talking to from his friend. “Sure,” he conceded. He let Jackson in, leading them both to his office and shutting the door.

Jackson immediately started to pace around the room. “Marcus,” he said, a paternal firmness in his voice.

Mark scoffed, leaning up against the desk and crossing his arms. “Don’t call me that,” he shook his head. “You know that’s not my name.”

Jackson ignored him, “I don’t see you for a few days and suddenly you’ve got some actor staying over and-”

“He’s not just some actor,” Mark rolled his eyes. “In fact, the actor thing is pretty irrelevant to that fact that he’s-”

Jackson exploded. “You’re _fucking_ Sunny’s dad, Mark!”

“What?” Mark gawked at him. He recollected himself. “Jackson. _I’m_ Sunny’s dad.”

Jackson whined, “You know what I-”

“And I’m not fucking him!” Mark nearly shouted before remembering that his office wasn’t exactly the most soundproof room and bringing his voice down.

Jackson paused. “You’re not?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. “But he’s wearing-”

“You’re jumping to conclusions. As usual,” Mark tightened his arms over his chest, getting annoyed. “Look. It’s a long story. But essentially, our laundry got mixed up. That’s it.”

Jackson paused again. Even longer. Trying to piece it all together. “But why is he-”

Mark groaned. “He’s living here. Okay?” he snapped. “Just for a little while.”

“Why?” Jackson grimaced.

Mark went quiet, fighting off a sudden flood of nerves that seemed to come from nowhere. Not knowing what to say. “I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I just,” he breathed. “I wanted to help.”

Jackson looked at him with flat eyes. He sighed, reaching for his phone in his pocket. “Is that why,” he swiped it open, “I had this article popping up in my recommended?” He handed the phone to Mark.

“What is-” Mark started to ask as he grabbed the phone. His eyes immediately being pulled to the headline.

_Actor Park Jinyoung’s Company Releases Official Statement on Sudden Absence_

_On Friday morning, Park Jinyoung’s company released an official statement stating that the actor is currently taking time off from his busy schedule to travel. Confirming prior reports that he had flown to Los Angeles last month. While the statement did not express the reason for the trip or when the actor would be returning, he has already been confirmed for a guest appearance in the new drama_ Through His Eyes _which is scheduled to start production in the coming months._

His eyes skimmed the rest of the article, seeing nothing else relevant and handing the phone back to Jackson. He sighed. “Look, he’s just taking some time to get to know his-,” he stopped himself. “To get to know Sunny. And you’re right. These are, admittedly, strange circumstances and his career doesn’t help make it seem any less strange. But what else is he supposed to do? The poor guy didn’t even know she existed until a few weeks ago.”

Jackson glared back at him. Seemingly unsatisfied with the response.

Mark came forward, wrapping his arms around his friend and hugging him close, even when Jackson didn’t hug him back. He rested his head against his shoulder. “I know you have good intentions and you’re trying to watch out for me,” he said, softly. “And I appreciate that. You know I would do the same for you. But this is deeply personal and complicated and I’m really trying to make the best decisions. Not just for me, but for Sunny too. Decisions that hopefully she won’t resent me for in the future. And I just ask that you try and be supportive of that.”

He felt Jackson’s stiffness only last a moment more before his friend was reaching his arms around him, seeming like he was finally hugging back. Until Mark heard the rustle of paper in Jackson’s hands. He pulled away, looking down at what he was holding.

Jackson had swiped a folded piece of paper off Mark’s desk and was holding it up. Mark’s name inscribed across it in the precise handwriting only a teacher could have.

“This,” Jackson said, shaking it. “This is what you should be putting your energy into.”

“Into what?” Mark’s face tightened, not getting it.

Jackson scoffed. “Mr Choi is sending you personal notes?” he started to open it.

Mark snatched it from his fingers before he could read anything. “He doesn't send them home with Yugyeom, too?” he asked, half aware of the answer.

“Mark,” Jackson sighed.

“What?” Mark shrugged. “He was just asking if I would chaperone the field trip. Didn’t he ask you and Jaebeom too?”

Jackson rolled his eyes. “You know sometimes I am like ‘Wow how is Mark still single?’ But then I think about that personal trainer at your old gym. Or Sunny’s soccer coach last year. Or, god forbid, the PTA moms. And it all makes sense.” His lips went thin, “Are you really being oblivious or are you just playing dumb?” 

Mark looked down to the note in his hands, fidgeting with it. Smoothing the corners. “Maybe a bit of both.” He looked up, seeing Jackson’s cocky smile finally breaking across his face. He groaned, throwing his arms. “I mean what am I supposed to do? It’s Sunny’s teacher.” 

“I think it’s pretty obvious,” Jackson let out a giggle. “You ask him out.” 

“But if he liked me,” Mark argued. “Why hasn’t he asked me out himself?” 

“Because you’re the dad. He’s the teacher,” Jackson said, like it was obvious. “You have the higher ground here. You need to be the one to make the first move,” he stuck a finger in his chest.

Mark rubbed at the spot, brows drawn together in hesitancy. “I don’t really know, Jackson,” he breathed softly. “I mean. I have Sunny. And everything going on with Jinyoung. It sounds like the perfect recipe for a disaster.”

Jackson shrugged. “The only disaster would be you continuing to lead him on. So either ask him out or stop letting him send you love letters through your daughter,” he said. “Now, come on. I got to go or Mr. Choi’s going to have _my ass_ for making these kids late again.”

“Jackson,” Mark groaned. “Go. And let Yugyeom keep as many bugs as he wants.”

Jackson’s shoulders dropped, “Stop. You sound like my husband.”

\---

Mark woke up in the middle of the night, smacking his dry mouth and needing a drink. He reached for his bedside table but didn’t find the glass that was usually there, remembering that Jinyoung had been religiously keeping every surface free from dirty dishes. He groaned, rolling off the bed and sleepily trudging downstairs. He instinctually maneuvered around the dark of his house, getting his glass of water and coming back up. But as soon as he was on the second floor, he heard it. Coming from Jinyoung’s bedroom. He stopped.

It sounded like crying.

And part of Mark wanted only to down his water and go back to bed. Leave Jinyoung to cry in the privacy of his own room. But something else in him, maybe his dad instinct, got the better of him. He came up to the door, listening to the undeniable wet sounds working up the man’s throat. His hand came up, faltering for a moment before knocking gently on the door.

He heard Jinyoung’s attempts to sniff the tears away, heard him clear his throat. “Come in,” he said, roughly.

Mark opened the door, peeking in to look at him.

Jinyoung was sitting on his bed, back against the headboard. Still wearing Mark’s UCLA t-shirt but now with a pair of sweatpants. And in front of him, across the bed were photo albums that Mark recognized from his living room shelves. And Jinyoung was trying to shuffle them together, hasility.

“Hey,” Mark said, softly. “What are you doing with those?”

Jinyoung sniffed, wiping his nose against his arm. “Nothing,” he said. “Sorry. I just happened upon them. I was just looking.”

Mark came forward, sitting on the edge of the bed. He reached for the first one he could grab, opening it up to a random page. “I remember this one,” he smiled, pointing down at the pictures. “She was… probably almost three. And it was her cousin’s birthday party in the park,” he looked up to the ceiling, straining to remember that day. 

“My mom bought both of them these matching princess dresses. But Sunny took one look at it and tried to run.” He laughed, looking to Jinyoung whose bleary, glossy eyes were trained on him, listening. “So,” he started again. “I promised we’d get ice cream if she wore it long enough to get a picture of them together. I probably should have specified that she had to smile for it.” 

He flipped the book towards Jinyoung, pointing down to the picture. “And so was born, the meanest picture of Sunny Tuan.” A younger Sunny was standing in the grass. A shiny pink costume dress matching her cousin’s next to her. Her eyebrows were drawn together in a wicked scowl.

Jinyoung leaned his chin into his hand as he studied it, letting out a splintered laugh that was still a little too wet. He smiled, “She’s really a daddy’s girl, isn’t she?”

Mark admired it. “Always has been,” he sighed. “Hopefully always will be.”

“You’re not sure?” Jinyoung asked, looking up.

Mark looked back at him, not sure how to answer. How to express the doubts he sometimes had. The ones he didn’t share with anyone. He drew in a breath, voice soft, “Why are you looking at these, Jinyoung?”

Jinyoung’s expression faltered, eyes glossing again. He shook his head. “It’s her past. Her past that I…” he swallowed, voice coming out weak as he tried to fight back a fresh set of tears. “I wasn’t there for it. So,” he nodded. “I should see it. Know what I missed.”

Mark looked at him, seeing how he was willingly subjecting himself to the torture of having to think about lost time. “But,” he rubbed at his arm, feeling hurt for him. “It’s so painful for you.”

Jinyoung sniffed, nodding again. “It is,” he said, combing his hair away from his face. “But it’s important. It’s her.” He seemed to be convincing himself. 

Mark felt an unbounded empathy for him. And it felt uncontrollable. Living all of that pain that Jinyoung was feeling just by looking at him. But knowing there was no consolation prize he could offer him. No way to turn back the clock. So he offered what he could. “What do you want to know?” he asked. “About her.”

Jinyoung’s eyes averted. His mind seemingly going off somewhere far from that bedroom to think. Taking his time. Before his mouth finally parted, wavering for a moment before speaking. “What was it like?” he asked, voice creaking. “The first time you held her?”

Mark sighed. He thought back to that hospital room. How nervous he was. How time seemed to slow. The world quieting, allowing him that moment. “Like,” he whispered, trying to put it into words. Taking his time just like Jinyoung had. “It probably sounds cliche,” he huffed, smiling and looking down to pick at the fabric of his pajamas. “But like everything had been leading up to that moment,” he whispered. “Like I had found this purpose that I didn’t even know I was looking for.” 

When Mark looked back, Jinyoung was looking at him. His expression so mixed. A set of fresh tears cascading down his face in quiet hurt. But also a small, dreamy smile. He shook himself. “Sorry,” he said, reaching for the sleeve of his t-shirt and wiping it against his cheeks.

“It’s okay,” Mark soothed. He looked down at his chest, “I was wearing that shirt. When I first held her.”

Jinyoung looked down at it, “Really?” He scrambled, realizing he was wiping his tears on a shirt that wasn’t his. “Oh god. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know it was so important.”

“No, it’s fine,” Mark shook his head. “It…” he hesitated for a moment. “It suits you.”

And something in Jinyoung’s whole presence warmed immediately. His smile working all the way up to his eyes. Something about it so unequivocally Sunny that it made Mark feel all those same feelings she gave him. The fondness and the tenderness and the excitement. But maybe there was something there that wasn’t Sunny’s either. Something that was just Jinyoung’s.

He squashed the thought. “What about you?” he said, desperately flipping the conversation. “What was it like to hold her?”

Jinyoung kept the same smile. “Amazing,” he said. “But..” he sighed. His hand going to the nape of his neck. “I knew coming here would be a lot. But I don’t think I really realized until that moment just how much I missed. How much there was to her. How little I knew. And how I couldn’t get any of that back.”

“You felt guilty,” Mark nodded.

“Yeah,” Jinyoung wiped at his reddened cheeks. “I still do. I mean,” he motioned to the photo albums between them. “She’s lived… so much life. Learned so much. I don’t know. It’s one thing to think about it and it’s another thing to see it.”

Mark drew one of his knees up, hugging it close and putting his chin to it. “Did you know that in Chinese, there are over a hundred different variations of the words guilt or shame?”

Jinyoung shook his head.

“I mentioned that to Jaebeom once,” Mark thought. “When we were talking about adopting children. Because I think even as adoptive parents we have our own sense of guilt about not being ‘real’ parents,” he put air quotes around the word. “And he told me something that stayed with me. He said that ‘guilt is the punishment we give ourselves before anyone else can.’” Mark smiled, “And I guess it just made me think why should I waste my energy judging myself and focusing on the things I’ll never be able to give her, when I could be celebrating all the things I can give her?”

Jinyoung nodded, thinking to himself. “You are right,” he conceded. “It’s just… it’s impossible to imagine that anything I could do for her would ever be enough. To offset all these moments I have missed. To convey to you my gratitude.”

Mark looked up at him, “Me?”

Jinyoung shrugged, “You’ve put everything into her, Mark. And she’s not even your- Well she is,” he corrected himself, quickly. “But you didn’t have to adopt her. You didn’t have to care for her better than her own biological parents could. And yet, you did anyway.”

Mark’s brows furrowed. “I don’t want to make it seem like it was altruism,” he shook his head. “I wanted her. More than anything. I still do. It was a selfish desire. And I’m still so selfish, so greedy with her. Even when I know it’s wrong.”

“If that was the case,” Jinyoung stopped him. “If it was only for you, then you would have never let me in the house. Never let me meet her. Live with her.”

Mark sighed. “I’m trying,” he said. “Trying to think about her. Because one day, she’s going to be older and have her own opinions about how she was raised.” And he thought about that, a twinge of nerves tugged on his face. “I want her to be satisfied with how I handled this.”

Jinyoung smiled again, nodding like he understood exactly what he meant.

Mark hesitated again, knowing what he had to say but not knowing if he was too prideful to say it. But he tried. “I should thank you as well.”

Jinyoung’s eyes widened, “Why me? I didn’t do anything.”

Mark drew in a deep breath. Taking all his courage to quiet down the remaining arrogance holding him back. “Because she wouldn't have ever been mine if it wasn’t for you,” he said. “Even in your mistake, you gave me the greatest gift I’ve ever received.”

Jinyoung smiled again. This time with his eyes going wet again. But now for a different reason.

“And I know,” Mark sighed. “All the time you’ve spent here must feel like a small drop in the bucket. But, nevertheless, I really appreciate everything you’ve been doing.”

“I’m not just doing this for her,” Jinyoung said. “I’m doing it for you too.”

Mark looked at him, confused, “What do you mean?”

Jinyoung shrugged, “You’ve worked so hard for over six years. But I want you to have time for yourself.” He thought for a moment, before laughing, “I mean what do you have in your life that isn’t just for family? What do you have that’s only yours?”

Mark grimaced a little, shaking his head, “I don’t need something for myself. Everything I do is for her. It always has been.” He repeated the words that he always told himself.

Jinyoung reached out, touching his knee. “You’re a father. An amazing one,” he laughed. “But you’re still Mark. And Mark can be more than just a great dad. He can be a successful career man. Or a traveler. Or a hobbyist. Or…” his words fell away for a moment. “Or an amazing partner to someone special.” 

Mark felt that hand against his knee, warm and simmering all the sudden nerves he was trying to quell. He took a deep breath, smiling a little. “I worked so hard for her. So to want things outside of her, no matter what it is, it just makes me feel ...guilty.”

Jinyoung had those wide eyes again. Imploring, nearly begging. “When Sunny is older and has an opinion about this, what do you think she’ll want?” he asked. “Would she want you to find joy only in her? Or would she want you to find all the joys that the world has to offer you?”

Mark sighed. Thinking back to what he’d said. Knowing that Jinyoung’s logic was sound. “You’re right,” he breathed. 

Jinyoung sat up a little straighter, smiling a little more. That hand on Mark’s knee rising a fraction of an inch.

“I’m going to ask Mr. Choi out,” Mark nodded.

Jinyoung stilled, his face tightened up instantly as he spoke.  
  
“What?”


	4. Four.

The class field trip to the zoo was fun for everyone. For the kids who got to run around, spot their favorite animals, do worksheets to practice their spelling, play games to let off their energy. For the parents too, who Mr. Choi let be involved in different ways. Inviting them to contribute to the group activities or play referee for the games or hold a small animal for the kids to pet. Even volunteering Mark to hold a baby alligator while all the kids went down the line, gently feeling at its scaly skin.

But after a few fun filled hours outside, as well as a quick lunch in the park, the chaperones gathered up their group, getting them ready to head back to school.

“Mark,” Mr Choi jogged up, clipboard in hand. “You got everyone from your group in your car?”

Mark counted them off on his fingers, silently. “Yup.”

“Okay,” he noted, looking over his sheet. “I think that’s everyone then.”

Mark leaned up against his car, “Seemed like a pretty successful trip.”

Mr. Choi raised his eyebrows behind the cover of his round glasses. “One of the smoother ones I’ve had,” he pulled the clipboard close to his chest.

Mark admired the slight golden hue of his skin from a day in the sun. Remembering that he still had one thing left to do today. He smiled, “How did I do?”

“You?” the teacher looked up at him, flipping the wavy bangs against his forehead with a smile. “You’re a natural. Are you sure you don’t have a kid or something?” he narrowed his eyes.

“Nah,” Mark shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m pretty sure I have a zoo animal too.”

“Oh,” the teacher nodded, mouth drawing up wide. “That explains why you were able to hold that baby alligator so well.”

Mark shrugged. “I mean they both bite.”

Mr. Choi’s laugh was bright and loud. “You’re so bad,” he said, pushing a hand to Mark’s chest.

Mark felt the momentary touch everywhere, sending a cascade of nerves through him that settled in the pit of his stomach. Knowing this was his chance. “Hey, Mr. Choi,” he started. “I really appreciate you asking me to volunteer today. I had a lot of fun.”

Mr. Choi quieted, his eyes still holding that radiant laughter in his eyes. “Yeah?” he said, a subtle tint of pink at his ears.

“Yeah,” Mark nodded. “But it would be fun to maybe get to know you without having to manage twenty small children at the same time.”

Mr. Choi stopped, the look on his face stilling but nonetheless still lively. “What are you asking me, Mark?”

Mark gathered all his courage in one deep breath. “I was wondering,” he shrugged. “If maybe sometime soon you’d like to-” Mark suddenly felt a tugging on the leg of his jeans.

“Uncle Mark.”

He looked down, blinking at the soft boy clinging to him. His floppy bangs hanging low in his round eyes. His full cheeks and scrunched nose as he looked up at him. “Yugyeom,” Mark sighed, reaching down to nudge at the boy’s shoulder. “Hey. The adults are talking. Can you give us a moment?”

Yugyeom didn’t move, his face drawing up in question. “Where’s Sunny?”

“I don't-,” Mark stopped, turning his full attention towards the boy. “What?”

Yugyeom’s face went nervous at the shift in Mark’s tone. “She was sitting right next to me,” he whined. “And then she was gone.”

Mark’s eyes drew up to Mr. Choi and the teacher must have immediately seen the panic in his face.

“You take that side of the parking lot and I’ll take this side,” Mr. Choi nodded. “Yugyeom,” he ducked down offering him his clipboard. “Can you hold this and stay here until we come get you?”

“I can do that,” Yugyeom nodded.

“Remember, stay here,” Mark said firmly, turning and starting to search the parking lot. There were a few rows of cars, only a small amount of them moving. And as he realized the seriousness of the situation, he felt some kind of hysteric instinct kicking up in him that took over every thought, making his breaths feel quicker and his mind move faster. His eyes went to the asphalt. Searching, trying to remember. What was she wearing? Thinking back to that morning when Jinyoung had been the one to get her ready.

Mark first thought of her hair. Which shouldn’t have been surprising because he remembered Sunny coming out to the kitchen with a messy excuse for a braid. Random pieces of hair sticking out of the loose twists that had been secured with a purple monkey hair tie. And Mark had laughed, Jinyoung not understanding what was so funny before Mark sat her down at the table to redo it.

“It’s harder than my sisters made it look,” Jinyoung pouted.

Mark smiled. “It just takes practice, right, Sunny?” And she had nodded her head, passing him the hair tie.

But that wasn’t important. What was she wearing? Mark remembered telling her they’d be outside, so pick something cool. Denim shorts. But her shirt? What was it? Mark’s eyes kept scanning under and over the cars.

“Stop!” he heard Mr. Choi’s shout ring out from the other side of the parking lot.

Mark gasped, turning immediately and running for the source of the sound.

Passing a few rows, he saw Mr. Choi stopped in front of a car, his hands against the hood and a panicked look in his face. And from where Mark was, he could see a pair of tiny yellow checkered Vans from under the body of the car. And a flash of bright, brilliant red. Mark’s heart sank immediately. Everything in him seizing up. _No._ He ran forward, rounding the corner of the car to see Sunny there. Her yellow Vans and her denim shorts and her bright red Wonder Woman shirt. Mark suddenly remembering what she had decided on.

Her eyes immediately went up to Mark’s. “Dad,” she gasped.

Mark felt his heart swell at the sound of her voice. “Sunny!” he bent down, drawing her close and holding her tight against him. And he held her there for a few moments, feeling the instinct still strong but trying to ground himself. “Are you okay?” he pulled away, holding her hands and looking at her all over. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” she shook her head. “I’m okay, Daddy.”

And once Mark knew she was fine, he felt the shift. The rush of panic moving into a rush of frustration.

“What’s wrong?” Sunny asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Mark didn’t answer, feeling his grip on her hands getting a little tighter. He took a deep breath, standing up. He held Sunny firmly at his side, turning towards Mr. Choi. The teacher was redirecting the car around them, letting it pass. Mark tried to breathe, tried to calm himself, watching as Mr Choi turned to face him and immediately reading the timid look on his usually bright features. 

Mark sighed, “I’m so sorry.”

Mr. Choi immediately shook his head, “No, I’m sorry,” he said, hands nervously coming together. “I should have been keeping better track-”

“No, it’s not your fault,” Mark stopped him. “Really. Don’t blame yourself.”

Mr. Choi let out a breath, like maybe he was letting go of the defensiveness he rushed to. He looked down. “Sunny, are you okay?” he asked, sweetly.

“I’m-”

“She’s fine,” Mark answered, clipped. He gripped her hand a little harder, looking down at her with an obvious intensity in his eyes.

Mr. Choi seemed to sense the tension there. He looked back to Mark. “Maybe it would be best for you to go home with her? I could drive the rest of your group back. I bet you’re both a little shook up.”

Sunny started to speak, a little louder from her place beside them, “No, I’m-”

“Sunny!” Mark snapped at her, glaring. He sighed, looking back up to her teacher and feeling the frustration start to mix dangerously with the shame. He nodded, “I’ll take her home.”

Mr. Choi helped get the kids from Mark’s car, putting them in his own. Sunny staying in Mark’s car, while Mark didn’t exchange any words with her. And when they were finished, Mr. Choi stopped him again, his face still wearing that tight nervousness. “Are you going to be okay?” his voice came out a little softer, reaching out to touch Mark’s arm. “Driving and everything?”

Mark nodded, feeling a little calmed by him. “Yeah, I’ll be okay.” He bit his lips, trying to find the words. “Just… I’m really sorry. I know this put a big damper on the day.”

“As long as she’s safe. That’s all that matters,” the teacher insisted. He backed away, waving. “Drive safe, Mark. See you soon.”

Mark felt the stab of disappointment. Obviously having botched his chance at asking him out. He sighed, waving back, “See you soon.”

Mark pulled out of the parking lot, starting to make his way home.

Sunny piped up from the backseat, “Am I in trouble?”

“Yes,” Mark breathed, trying to stay calm, but hearing the innate bite in his tone. He kept his eyes on the road, hands tightening against the wheel. “Yes, you are.”

“But, Dad,” Sunny whined.

“I don’t want to hear it,” Mark stopped her immediately. “Wait until we get home.”

And Mark had intended for the silent ride home to quiet his anger. He intended for him to be able to approach the situation with a more level head and more understanding. But every car on the road served a trigger to seeing Sunny’s shoes under the frame of that car and Mr. Choi’s voice calling out and Mark’s mind immediately going to the absolute worst conclusion when he saw that splash of bright red. So by the time he got home and sat her down on the couch, he was pacing in front of her, still fuming.

“Sunny,” he gritted out. “What were you thinking?”

“But Dad!” she whimpered.

“But what?” Mark glared at her. “You could have been hurt? Seriously hurt? That car could have hit you! Do you understand that?”

“Yes,” Sunny whined loudly. “But listen!”

“What?” he stopped, eyes full of fire. Everything in him tense with anger.

Sunny sighed, starting to explain. “There was a mommy duck and her baby ducks. The baby ducks were trying to cross the road. Back to their mommy. But they were slow and there were cars,” she blinked up at him, wide eyes round. “They needed help.”

Mark groaned. “That wasn’t your job, Sunny. You should have told someone.”

“There wasn’t time!” she asserted. “They needed someone.”

“Well, you weren’t that someone!” Mark yelled.

Sunny’s eyebrows drew together, glaring back at him. “I don’t know why you are mad,” she shook her head. “I did a good thing.”

“Because you were reckless.”

Sunny folded her arms across her small chest, “What does that even mean?”

Mark sighed, exasperated. “It means you didn’t think about the bad things that could have happened.”

“It was an accident!” Sunny shouted. “I’m not hurt!”

“It doesn’t matter!” Mark roared back. “You scared me and you scared Mr. Choi. Do you know how worried we were?”

Sunny’s shoulders sunk, the smallest passing of guilt across her face. “But still-”

“But nothing,” Mark stopped her. “Sunny. You need to say sorry.”

“No,” she shook her head, defiantly. “I won’t. I did a good thing.”

“Then go to your room,” Mark pointed down the hall. “I don’t want to see you until you say sorry.”

“Grrr,” Sunny growled. “I hate you!”

Mark felt a stab of pain in his chest, as if the sharp words had physically stung him. He shook his head, looking at her. “No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do!” she seethed. “I wish you never even chose me. I wish I was raised by wolves.”

And Mark felt the sinking feeling in his stomach, seeing the fire raging through her. Wondering if she had learned that from him too. But even so, he was still too worked up to come back down. “Well, you weren’t,” he bit out. “Even if you’d rather act like them.”

Sunny grabbed the throw pillow next to her, burying her face into it and screaming. 

“Scream all you want,” Mark shrugged. “But you aren’t leaving your room until you are ready to apologize.”

She raised her face. And Mark saw the sudden wetness of her eyes. He held his breath. “Go,” he said firmly, beckoning towards her room. “Now.”

Sunny got up slowly, averting her eyes as she stomped down the hall.

Mark stood, shuddering when the slam of her door echoed through the whole house. He finally let out a breath. Or tried to. But his heart was racing so fast and every breath he tried to take felt shallow and futile. The rage flooding out and everything else flooding in. The frustration, the shame, the remorse. Replaying the look in her eyes. Replaying the sound of her words. 

_I hate you. I wish you never even chose me._

Mark sat himself down on the couch. He grabbed the pillow she had screamed into, clutching tight around it. Feeling all the anguish she had poured into it diffusing through him. And he wanted to scream just like Sunny had but he held it back. Nevertheless, something had to come out. So Mark started to feel the wetness of his own eyes. He tried to hold his breath, trying to get them to stop but they wouldn’t. They just kept pooling heavier and heavier until they were streaking down his face in quiet heartache.

And he sat there for a while, getting lost in his thoughts. In replaying every small moment since Yugyeom had tugged at his leg. Until he felt a dip in the couch, a shifting of weight. He looked to the side and saw Jinyoung sitting down next to him. Mark rushed to wipe the tears from his face. “Hey,” he said, throat rough. At first, feeling a need to sit up straighter, to act like he was fine.

But he saw Jinyoung’s eyes watching him. His face gentle and calm.

And Mark realized that Jinyoung had heard everything. And there was no place to hide, no reason to. He slumped back down, eyes getting wet again as they averted, finding it hard to look at him. Feeling only the judgement he assumed Jinyoung would have. Because after all, he’d just lost his cool on _his_ biological kid. _His_ daughter. Mark felt a rush of nerves at the thought, immediately opening his mouth to try and defend himself. “Look,” he swallowed. “It isn’t usually like this. She’s never been this defiant or-”

Jinyoung grabbed at the pillow between Mark’s arms, slowly removing it.

Mark looked back at him, not understanding what he was doing.

Jinyoung moved the pillow to the side, coming a little closer and reaching out to wrap his arms around Mark.

Mark felt that rush of nerves a little differently then, realizing that Jinyoung wasn’t mad, but instead trying to hug him. He put his hands to the man’s chest. “Jinyoung,” he tried to pull away. “It’s fine. I’m fine.” He tried to keep his voice calm and even.

Jinyoung didn’t pause, just kept wrapping around him. “Maybe I need it,” he whispered, securing his arms around Mark.

Mark stopped for a moment, taken aback. Feeling the warmth of Jinyoung’s embrace but not knowing what to do with it. His breaths still shallow and rushed as his eyes started to wet again, as if Jinyoung’s arms around him was giving him the excuse he needed to cry. He gulped, slowly reaching out and returning the embrace. His head fell to Jinyoung’s shoulder and as soon as it did, he felt the tears start to spill silently. 

And something about it felt so unfamiliar, so foreign. And it was more than the fact that he’d never hugged Jinyoung before. And his mind raced trying to figure it out before realizing that he never had this. Never had someone there to soothe him during these more difficult moments. He had always had to manage those feelings alone. Validate himself because no one else would. And while Mark and Sunny’s fight had been unprecedented, so was having someone there to comfort him.

And it was nice.

So Mark just let it happen for a little while longer.

\---

It was well past dinnertime and Mark was in his bed, trying to get some work done. Trying to distract himself. Because he hadn’t heard so much as a peep from Sunny’s room since she went in there. And he was trying to stop thinking about it, trying to tell himself to stay strong, that she would come out when she was ready, but he couldn’t help but feel a biting remorse and wonder if he’d mishandled the situation entirely.

He felt a pair of eyes on him. He looked up to the doorway of his room, seeing Jinyoung standing there.

“Are you busy?” he asked.

Mark put his laptop to the side, “No, why?”

Jinyoung tilted his head, “Someone would like to talk to you.”

Mark immediately felt a stirring of nerves in his stomach. Part of him not sure if he was ready to face her. But he let that go with a sigh, nodding. “Okay.”

Jinyoung led Sunny into the room, easing her forward while he stayed in the doorway. She was wearing her pajamas now. And her eyes were drawn to the floor as she timidly came towards Mark. In her hand, an envelope that she was wearing her fingers against nervously. She came up next to the bed, offering it to him.

Mark took it, flipping it over in his hands, “What’s this?”

“A letter for Mr. Choi,” Sunny said, her voice small. “Saying I’m sorry.”

And sure enough, when Mark turned it over, Mr. Choi’s name was spelled out in multicolored markers. He looked down at her. “Daddy doesn’t get a letter?”

Sunny looked up at him. She shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I wanted to help, but I didn’t think. I should have gotten an adult to help me.”

Mark couldn’t fight the smile pulling at his face.

“And-” she breathed. She stopped, looking over to Jinyoung in the doorway.

Jinyoung nodded, encouragingly.

Sunny turned back, sighed. “I’m sorry I said I hated you,” she hung her head. “And that I wish I was raised by wolves. I didn’t mean it.”

Mark reached forward, raising her chin up to meet his eyes. “Then, why did you say it?” he asked, softly.

Sunny’s brows furrowed together in worry. “Because you were mad and it was scary.”

Mark huffed a laugh. “Come here,” he said, reaching under her arms and picking her up. He placed her in his lap, raising up his knees to face her towards him. He held her hands. “I’m sorry I was scary,” he started. “Daddy was just afraid. Because you are my baby. My Sunny Bunny. And I am supposed to keep you safe. So when Daddy saw that you were in danger, he got really, really afraid. Do you understand?”

Sunny’s eyes were still round and wide. “It’s not because you hate me?” she whispered.

“Baby,” Mark laughed, he drew her closer, holding her against his chest. “No. I could never hate you. I love you so much. Do you believe me?” he looked down into her face.

“Hmm,” she hummed, finally the beginnings of a smile showing on her face even if she tried to avert it away. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Mark smiled, tackling her onto the bed. He started to kiss her face all over, tickling her. “You don’t know?” he kept repeating.

Sunny laughed finally, bright and loud. “Okay, okay,” she surrendered, trying to push him away. “I believe you.”

Mark stopped, hovering over her. “And?” his eyes widened.

Sunny smiled. “And I love you too, Daddy.”

Mark felt the swell of his chest. The feeling of his universe falling back into place. Exactly the way it should be. “There we go,” he said, drawing her close again and hugging her tightly. And as he held her, his eyes met Jinyoung’s in the doorway. And he was smiling too.

 _Thank you,_ Mark mouthed towards him.

And Jinyoung nodded, a small glint in his eye, before he slipped out of the room, letting them have their moment alone.

And later that night, after Sunny had fallen asleep to a movie and Mark had carried her downstairs to put her to bed, he came back up, laying on his bed and staring up at his ceiling. And from the next room, he could hear a noise that he didn’t recognize at first. So he closed his eyes, straining his ears to listen. But as he tried to place the soft musical sound, he realized it was Jinyoung, softly singing in his room. And though it had been a long, emotional day, Mark fell asleep with a smile across his face.

\---

“Mark,” Jinyoung called the next day, standing at the sink cleaning out Sunny’s backpack.

Mark looked up from where he was sitting at the kitchen table, hovering over Sunny’s shoulder as he helped with her homework.

Jinyoung waved a piece of paper in the air. “You have another message,” he smirked.

Mark’s heart dropped. He stumbled forward, reaching out and taking it in his hands. Reading his name across it in that perfect penmanship. He leaned up against the kitchen counter, taking a deep breath before opening it.

_I let Sunny know how much I appreciated her letter. Thank you so much._

_But if you were trying to ask me out, I’m free this weekend. Maybe we should move into the 21st century? Here’s my number. You can put it in your phone under Youngjae._

“What does it say?” Jinyoung asked.

Mark looked up, eyes gaping. His knees suddenly feeling like jelly beneath his body. He gripped onto the kitchen counter for support. “I ...have a date this weekend,” he said, soft enough for Sunny not to hear.

Jinyoung blinked, looking over his shocked features. He furrowed his brows, “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Mark gulped, eyes averting. “I need to sit down,” he breathed, walking to the living room and sitting down on the couch. 

“I don’t get it,” Jinyoung followed him, features perplexed. Holding up his hands. “What’s the problem?”

Mark sat for a moment, trying to calm himself. He looked up at him. “I haven’t been on a date in nearly a decade.”

Jinyoung’s face screwed, “Are you serious?”

Mark sighed, feeling a little frustrated with his response. “I’ve kind of been busy raising a child,” he rushed to defend himself. He sat for a moment, thinking. “You know what?” he started, shaking his head. “Maybe I was being short sighted. Maybe I’m not really ready for this. You know what I’ll just text him. Explain to him-” he started to take his phone from his pocket.

Jinyoung reached forward, snatching it out of his hands. 

Mark stared up at him.

“Take me out.”

Mark’s face pulled up in confusion, sure he misheard him. “What?” he felt his stomach churn, feeling the intensity of the man’s stare. Realizing he was serious. He opened his mouth, hesitating around the words “Jinyoung, I-”

“Take me out. Like a rehearsal,” he rushed to say, nearly tripping over his words. “We will go on a date. And then afterwards, I’ll tell you how you did. Give you tips.”

Mark froze, putting it together. “What makes you the expert?”

“I’ve been on hundreds of dates. I’ve proposed probably a dozen times. I’ve been married too,” Jinyoung nodded.

Mark glared at him. “What are you-” it clicked. He groaned. “Okay, your dramas don’t count.” 

“Still,” Jinyoung argued, sitting down next to him. “If you can impress a famous actor, I think you can impress a first grade teacher.” He sat up, crossing his legs. “And lucky for you, my schedule is very flexible,” he winked.

Mark stared at him. At the stupid, frustratingly handsome smirk across his face. The same one he probably used countless times in his shows and ads. And he hated how cliche it was for him to feel an involuntary flush down his neck. He tried to collect himself. 

And honestly, it was a bad idea. To take your daughter’s… To take Jinyoung out on a date. Even if it was a pretend one. But he couldn’t deny that he needed the help if he was ever to move forward with Mr. Choi. _Youngjae,_ he corrected himself. If he really wanted to take Youngjae out, he would need something to bolster his confidence. And maybe a date with a handsome actor would be the thing to do it.

Mark sighed. “Tomorrow night. Be ready at 7pm.”

Jinyoung’s smirk transformed into a full smile, beaming and bright all the way to his eyes. “I’ll be there,” he nodded, maybe more enthusiastic than he should have been.

Mark stood back up, starting to walk back towards the kitchen and grimacing over his shoulder, “You’re going to make me regret this, aren’t you?”

\---

The next day when Mark came home from dropping Sunny off at Yugyeom’s for the night, he walked around the house, trying to find Jinyoung. But he wasn’t in the kitchen or the living room or Sunny’s room or seemingly anywhere to be found. So he went upstairs, seeing if the man was in his room, but instead heard sounds coming from his own bedroom. He peeked his head in, seeing Jinyoung laying out clothes on his bed.

“What are you doing?” Mark asked, pushing through the door.

Jinyoung jolted, putting his hand to his chest and collecting himself. “You scared me.”

“You’re in my room,” he said, coming closer and trying to figure out what he was doing.

Jinyoung scooped up a pair of clothing hangers off the bed and held them to Mark’s chest. “Here.”

Mark looked down, “What is this?” He grabbed them, holding them away from his body to look. A pair of tailor black pants and a button down shirt.

“Clothes,” Jinyoung said simply, starting to walk out of the room. “I went through your closet.”

Mark felt an immediate tinge of annoyance. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” he questioned, looking down to his jeans and oversized t-shirt.

Jinyoung turned, eyes taking him in up and down. “Are you taking me out to eat or to the skate park?” 

“Hey,” Mark dropped his shoulders. “Be nice.”

“I’m sorry,” Jinyoung laughed. “I like your clothes, Mark. But I can’t see your body in this outfit.” 

Mark felt a small wave of self-consciousness. “Do you need to?” he asked, softly.

“Trust me,” he smirked. “Yours is not the kind you want to cover up.”

And Mark shouldn’t have felt the backhanded compliment everywhere as he watched Jinyoung walk out of his room, but he still did. Seeping through him with heat that wasn’t just relegated to his face or his neck this time but everywhere. He turned away, taking a breath. “It’s just practice,” he murmured to himself. “Don’t be weird about it.”

Mark changed, admittedly checking himself out in the bathroom mirror. Taking the extra effort to smooth down his hair with product. Spray a bit of cologne at his pulse points. Put a few thin silver chains around his neck. Not really remembering the last time he’d worn them. He came downstairs, seeing Jinyoung on the couch waiting for him. “Better?” he breathed, a little sardonic.

Jinyoung looked up at him, eyes brightening and smile widening. “What do _you_ think?” he asked.

Mark turned, looking at his reflection in the glass doors that lead to the pool, easy to see himself now that night had fallen. He put his hands in his pockets, twisting to see his side profile. “It looks nice,” he mumbled, unwilling to give Jinyoung the reaction he wanted. “I guess.” He turned back, seeing the man smiling proudly.

“So,” Jinyoung stood up, grabbing his jacket. “Where are you taking me?” he asked, pulling it on.

“I was going to take Youngjae to me and Sunny’s favorite taco stand.”

“A taco stand?” Jinyoung blinked, pausing. “Sounds kind of casual.”

Mark looked at him. “What’s wrong with casual?”

“Nothing,” Jinyoung shrugged. “It’s just. You know… the first date. Maybe you want to take him someplace a little nicer?” He reached down to the coffee table, picking up a piece of paper and handing it over to him. “I did some research. Made a list of possible options.”

Mark took it, looking each of them over. French and Italian places mostly that Mark had barely heard of, let alone been to. “Jinyoung, this is ridiculous,” he sighed, looking up. “I wouldn’t even know what to order at these places.”

“Which is why we can go check it out now,” he urged.

Mark felt a little uneasy, fingers messing with the edges of paper as he tried to find the words. “I appreciate all of this,” he started. “But the clothes? The recommendations? It’s a bit... much.”

Jinyoung’s face fell. “I’m just taking it seriously,” he said, deflated.

“I know, I know,” Mark rushed to say. He swallowed. “But he wants to date me, right? So shouldn’t I stay authentic to me?”

Jinyoung bit at his lips, considering. “You’re right,” he nodded. “It’s your date. Not mine,” he said. “Take me where you’d take him.”

Mark immediately felt a pang of remorse looking at the obvious disappointment on his face. He didn’t expect Jinyoung to put in so much effort. He almost questioned why he would be so invested, why he would offer to help. But he remembered their conversation the other night. How eager Jinyoung was to show his gratitude. And he knew that this was probably just Jinyoung’s way of showing it. He nodded. “Come on then,” he beckoned towards the door. “Let’s go.”

Jinyoung raised an eyebrow at him, “You’re not going to change your clothes.”

Mark rolled his eyes. “Don’t look so smug about it.”

\---

Mark and Jinyoung stood in the line at the taco truck that was nestled in the backlot of a strip mall. Around the truck, picnic tables and string lights filled the space. And there weren’t too many people. Most coming through to get take out orders while just a few sparse individuals ate at the tables.

“How does it feel?” Mark asked.

Jinyoung was busy looking over the menu on the side of the truck, “What?”

“To be out and about for the first time in while.”

“Good,” Jinyoung nodded. “I’ve been to Los Angeles before this. But never with someone from here. So places like these I would have never found out about.”

“Well, you’re lucky that you have a good tour guide,” Mark smiled.

Jinyoung looked back, “I am.”

Mark felt the stare of his eyes like a warmth from the sun on his face, passively wondering if maybe it was just the glow of the string lights.

“What would the tour guide recommend from this lovely establishment?” Jinyoung pointed up to the menu.

Mark reached up, pulling his hand down. “Why don’t you just go grab us a table and I’ll order?” he said, only remembering at the last second to let go of Jinyoung’s hand.

“Okay,” Jinyoung agreed, fishing into his pocket and taking out his wallet. “Here. Take my card.”

“Jinyoung,” Mark huffed. “It’s fine.”

“Come on,” Jinyoung scoffed. “You literally cook all my meals.”

“No,” Mark urged. “It’s my date. I’ll pay.”

“Fine,” Jinyoung’s lips made a flat line. He slipped his wallet back into his pocket. “I like spicy.”

“Good,” Mark smiled. “Now, go.”

Mark brought them their food a few minutes later, seeing that Jinyoung had already laid out utensils and water for them. He stood over the tray, pointing and briefing him on the different varieties of tacos he ordered before he sat down, urging Jinyoung to grab some for his plate and dig in.

“So,” Mark said, squeezing a wedge of lime over his dish. “Do you have any upcoming projects you are filming for?” he asked, the article Jackson had mentioned in the back of his mind.

Jinyoung looked at him, eyes freezing. “Why?”

“Just making conversation,” Mark shrugged. “Isn’t this what people do on a date?”

Jinyoung sighed. “I have a small role I’m filming for in about a month. But it should be fairly quick. Just three weeks or so,” he seemed to downplay it.

Mark felt a sudden small panic that he couldn’t explain. “So you’ll have to fly back to Korea to film?”

“Yeah,” Jinyoung nodded, eyes averted away. “But you know…” he shrugged. “I can come back.” He took a bite into his taco.

Mark's stomach stirring from something other than hunger. “Would you want to?”

The contents of Jinyoung’s taco started to spill out the other side, down his hand. He put it down, drawing his fingers up to his mouth and suckling at them to get the excess sauce off. He looked back at Mark. “Yeah,” he said, lapping his tongue over his knuckles passively.

Mark stared at him, that feeling in his stomach going heated.

“What?” Jinyoung blinked, seemingly growing self-conscious under Mark’s gaze.

He took a deep breath, feeling it rattle through his full chest. “I think I need a drink,” he sighed, more to himself.

“Then, get a drink,” Jinyoung motioned back to the truck, picking up his food again. “I can drive home.”

“No, it’s fine,” Mark shook his head. “I’m fine.” He told himself, trying to will it to be true.

“Mark,” Jinyoung’s shoulders fell. “Just relax. This is supposed to be fun. Dating is supposed to be fun.”

“Tell that to my dating coach,” Mark smirked down at his plate.

Jinyoung huffed. “Fine,” he dropped his food, wiping his hands on a napkin. “I’ll get you a drink,” he stood up, making his way back up to the truck window.

A few minutes later, Jinyoung sat back down, placing two margaritas down in front of him.

Mark looked at them, quizzically. “I thought you said you were driving home.”

“She gave me two for some reason,” Jinyoung said, pushing them both towards Mark. “I tried to refuse but she was so sweet. I didn’t want to be rude.”

Mark reached out, taking a sip. Immediately noting how strong the bite of the tequila was. He briefly considered pushing them away. But Jinyoung had gone out of his way to get them. And they were all he had to cloud his intrusive thoughts, so he just took another sip.

“So,” Jinyoung started. “What about your last relationship?”

Mark choked around his drink, sputtering and coughing before he looked at Jinyoung.

“Sorry. I’m just curious,” Jinyoung shrugged, picking at his food again. “You know. What kind of background you are starting with here.”

Mark took another longer sip, putting the glass down and leaning his elbows on the table. “College. Senior year.”

Jinyoung took a bite of food, listening.

“He was a pre-med student,” Mark continued. “It lasted about eight months, maybe? Until he told me he was cheating on me.”

Jinyoung grimaced, “That must have hurt.”

“Not really,” Mark sighed. “I knew I should have cared, but I kind of just ...didn’t.”

Jinyoung furrowed his dark brows, “Well, that’s not a good sign.”

“He didn’t think so either,” Mark shrugged. “Which is why my clothes got thrown out of his dorm window onto the green.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah,” Mark spun his glass, thinking for a moment. “And before that there was a painter who taught my mom’s art class that she tried to hook me up with.”

“That’s so sweet.”

“He also danced at an adult nightclub on the side,” Mark noted.

Jinyoung paused. “Okay.”

“Which would have been fine,” he cringed. “Until the club got exposed for being a brothel and he got arrested for solicitation.”

“Oh my god,” Jinyoung widened his eyes.

“Yeah, it kind of fizzled out after that. He was a little busy with his court dates,” Mark took another long sip, wiping the excess from his mouth. “And before that, there was a fellow camp counselor at a sports camp I taught at.”

“I’m scared.”

“He broke up with me when he heard me speaking Mandarin on the phone with my parents.”

“What?”

“I guess he thought I was Japanese. He was really into anime. But I guess Chinese American didn’t really have the same appeal,” Mark shrugged.

“That’s awful,” Jinyoung sat, mouth agape. He shook his head. “No wonder you swore off relationships.”

“Yeah,” Mark took another bite of food, covering his mouth. “It just seemed like they weren’t for me. Maybe they still aren’t.”

Jinyoung looked at him, eyes full of pity. “Don’t say that.”

“Whatever,” Mark waved him away. “What’s next?”

“Okay,” Jinyoung pulled out a memo book from his jacket. “I thought we might brainstorm some conversation starters that you could use on him.”

Mark laughed out loud, “Wow. You really planned this out, didn’t you?”

“I'm an unemployed housewife,” Jinyoung smiled. “What else am I going to do?”

“You’re not a-” Mark sighed. “Fine. We’ll do it.” He took another sip of his drink, thinking and thinking as he started up at the strings of lights against the black night sky. “Uh,” he started. “Why did you want to become a teacher?”

“That’s a good one,” Jinyoung nodded, writing it down.

Mark thought more, crossing his arms over his chest. “How did you adopt your dog?”

“Got it,” Jinyoung wrote.

“Would you want any more kids than Sunny?”

“Woah,” Jinyoung stopped him.

“Woah?”

Jinyoung tilted his head, eyes getting wider. “That’s a bit… forward, don’t you think?”

Mark shrugged. “But I don’t want any more kids,” he argued. “What if he does? Shouldn’t we be upfront? I don’t want him wasting his time if-”

“Why don’t we just keep the conversation a little lighter?” Jinyoung said. “At least for the first date.”

Mark scoffed slightly. “Fine,” he conceded. “Got it.”

“What kind of movies do you like?” Jinyoung asked.

“Well, Sunny likes most musicals,” Mark smiled, thinking of her singing along to the television every time. “And I guess I turned her on to surf movies. She’s watched Blue Crush probably a dozen times,” he laughed.

Jinyoung looked at him, eyes curious. “That’s nice. But what does Mark like?”

Mark stared back at him, face blank. Not understanding.

Jinyoung shrugged, “He’s not on a date with Sunny, he’s on a date with you. He wants to know you.”

Mark groaned, rubbing his face. “This is harder than I thought it would be,” he murmured into his hands. He picked up his margarita and drained the last of it.

Jinyoung pulled the empty glass away, shoving the next one in front of him. “We have all night. Come on,” he said. “Let’s talk about places you’ve traveled to.”

\---

They pulled up in the driveway of Mark’s home. Jinyoung coming around to hold the car door open for Mark, offering his hand.

“I’m fine,” Mark waved him away. “It was just two drinks.” He got out, pulling his keys out of his pocket as he walked towards the front door and flipping through them for the right one. And he must have been too tipsy to multi-task because as he tried to step up onto the porch, he didn’t quite make it. Tripping over his own feet.

Jinyoung reached out, putting a hand against his waist for a moment to steady him. “You sure you’re fine?”

Mark felt that hand at his waist. Burning through the fabric of his shirt. “Yeah,” he nodded, stepping away from him. “I’m fine.” He gulped. “So,” he started, making small talk as he unlocked the front door. “How did I do? Give me a final score.”

Jinyoung laughed, “Well, you’re not done yet.”

Mark looked up at him, glaring. “What do you mean?” he scoffed. “I’m home. The date ends here.”

“Mmm,” Jinyoung hummed. “Not before he kisses you goodnight.”

Mark felt those two drinks a little stronger now, giving a dizzying spin to his head. But instead of showing it, he just rolled his eyes. “Are you going to do that part, too?” he jeered, exasperated.

“Maybe,” Jinyoung shrugged, stepping a little closer. “I mean it sounds like you’re out of practice.”

“Shut up,” Mark grumbled, reaching out and lightly shoving his chest.

Jinyoung smiled, grabbing at Mark’s wrist, not letting his touch stop him from getting a little closer. “Are you sure you remember how?”

“Jinyoung,” Mark growled.

“You put your lips together. Like this,” he pouted his lips out, closing his eyes.

And there was a sudden wave in Mark that took hold of everything as he pushed at Jinyoung’s shoulders forcefully. Pushed until Jinyoung was stumbling back, hitting the wall of the house. Mark pinned him, hands gripping his shoulders, pressing weight into him until their faces were inches apart.

Jinyoung’s eyes went wide as he hit the wall with a small gasp. His shocked features transfixed on Mark. Holding a breath in his chest. And from this close, Mark could see every small detail of his face catching the porch light. Lashes casting shadows on his cheekbones, dark brows tilted upward and widening his eyes, pretty, pink mouth hanging open in flusteredness. 

And Mark couldn’t explain the way that his sudden wave of agitation crashed into a sea of tension. So strong he felt like he was being pulled into two. Half into Jinyoung and half away from him. Feeling powerless in the middle of it, frozen where he stood.

But none of those feelings seemed to be diffusing the space between them into Jinyoung. Because the man’s initial wide eyes wore off, giving way to something different. Something far more relaxed than whatever Mark was feeling. His shoulders softening under Mark’s hands, letting himself be pinned. And his eyes, still wide and round but not in shock anymore. No, there was something warmer in them. That curiosity that Mark had seen from the very beginning suddenly so close, studying Mark’s face and making him feel that same sort of electric overexposure. Jinyoung’s glance moved slow across Mark’s features, tongue peeking through his open lips to wear ever so slightly at the corner of his mouth.

Mark inhaled deeply, trying to surface from whatever he’d been dragged into but it was futile. He was still being pulled by that tension that only built higher and higher as he watched the slow, passive movement of Jinyoung’s tongue against his lip. The questioning in his eyes that, in the low light, looked something like a challenge.

But under the slow, steady blink of his eyes, Mark defocused. Seeing not Jinyoung at all, but his daughter. Seeing Sunny’s round cheeks and wide eyes and beaming smile. And it was wrong. So much so that the pleasant dizziness from the alcohol went straight to his stomach, turning nauseous and sour.

And maybe Jinyoung noticed the change, because there was now a tint of concern in his features.

Mark took a deep breath, this time feeling himself break free. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, barely above a whisper. “I’ve had too much to drink.”

And now, Jinyoung’s face was really falling. Brows creasing and mouth closing. His eyes looking over Mark’s features one last time, settling somewhere on his mouth as he spoke. “We should go inside.”

Mark nodded. He let go of Jinyoung’s shoulders, backing away and taking one last look at him up against that wall. Not sure if he wanted to remember this when the buzz faded. He thought about apologizing again, but when he tried to, the words wouldn’t come. So he just went inside, hurrying up the stairs and into his bedroom. Locking the door and turning out the lights and laying down on his bed.

His head still fuzzy with the mix of alcohol and the memory of Jinyoung’s face too close. Causing him to whisper out into the darkness, chastising himself.

“What are you doing?”


	5. Five.

Mark never addressed whatever happened on the front porch between him and Jinyoung. Instead, he spent the first couple of days making wide circles around him, interacting more out of necessity than anything else. Talking about Sunny, about the weather, about anything else but what had happened. Hiding out in his office during the day while staying by Sunny’s side in the afternoons and evenings. And while he was initially nervous that Jinyoung would try to bring it up, he was relieved when the man never did. 

And so that weekend, Mark sat outside Youngjae’s apartment, waiting for him to come out. He was thankful that he’d offered to drive because it meant that he wouldn’t have to relive any front porch mishaps again at his house. But even now, falling into another trap of remembering, he found himself blasting the car’s air conditioner, holding his palms up to the grates to try and keep them from sweating. His stomach in knots.

“It was nothing,” he tried to calm himself. “You did nothing wrong. It wasn’t real.”

Because the date with Jinyoung hadn’t been real. And yet Mark hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the way Jinyoung had looked pressed up against the house. The way his eyes studied Mark’s face from eyes to mouth. And something about it sure as hell felt real.

The car door opened and Mark snapped himself out of the thought, looking up to see Youngjae getting in.

“Hey,” the man smiled, bright and wide. He was dressed down in jeans and a t-shirt. No longer wearing his round glasses, so there was nothing dimming the shine of his eyes in the setting light of late afternoon.

Mark felt the twist of anxiety unknot itself in one swift move. Something about Youngjae’s whole presence instantly refreshing him, pulling him from his anxious thoughts and replacing them with that calm, bright energy he had. “Hey,” he breathed. “How are you?”

“I’m great,” Youngjae nodded. “You?”

“I’m ...stumped,” Mark huffed. He reached for his passport in the center console, holding it up between his fingers. “Why exactly did you tell me to bring this?”

“Oh,” Youngjae shrugged as he pulled on his seatbelt. “It just makes the identity theft process a lot easier.”

Mark rolled his eyes, “Right, right.”

“I’m kidding,” Youngjae laughed, grabbing Mark’s passport. “I just wanted to make sure your passport photo is worse than mine,” he started to flip through the pages, opening up to Mark’s photo. “Oh, no,” his shoulders fell and he looked up at him, pouting. “You're cute.”

“Stop,” Mark laughed, taking it from his hands. “Come on. Tell me. What do I need it for?”

“I mean, I know you wanted to get Mexican,” he offered. “But in my opinion, there’s only one place to get it.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Mark waved his hands. “You’re taking over _my date_?”

Youngjae looked up at him, smirking. “Yeah, I am,” he said, voice low and soft. He leaned a little closer. “Problem?”

Mark felt that fuse in him being ignited, sparking awake. “Fine,” he conceded. “But what kind of restaurant requires a passport?”

“Mark,” Youngjae groaned. “Come on. You’re smarter than that.”

Mark stared at him, thinking until the realization hit. “Mexico?” his eyebrows raised.

“Mmhm,” Youngjae hummed, nodding. “How does that sound, Mr. Tuan?”

Mark smirked. “Sounds perfect,” he put the car into reverse.

\---

The house was dark when Mark finally got home, taking off his shoes and dropping his keys and dragging himself up the stairs. His body felt heavy with the inevitable introvert crash that always came after too much banter and too much laughter, no matter how welcome it was. His mind was stirred like the ocean floor after the crash of a wave, trying to settle back down.

And as he got to the top of the stairs, heading for his room, he saw the light still on in Jinyoung’s. His door open. And maybe it was his stirred up mind carelessly being drawn closer, floating over to lean in the doorway. Seeing Jinyoung laying in his bed, stretched out on top of the covers. A book in his hand. One arm upstretched over his head, high enough for the edge of his t-shirt to be raised just above the waistband of his pajama pants. And it immediately had Mark’s eyes fixating. Thinking about the red underwear or the UCLA shirt that had been a little too tight on Jinyoung’s firm chest and arms. How Jinyoung had tried to strip it off in the kitchen.

When Mark looked away from that stretch of skin, he saw Jinyoung’s eyes looking back at him. He nearly jumped, feeling that sinking overexposed feeling again at the thought that he might be caught.

Jinyoung slowly sat up, facing him. “Hey,” he said, voice soft and deep.

“Hey,” Mark answered, voice rough from all the back and forth chatter he’d shared with Youngjae. Nearly shouting over the crowd of Spanish speaking voices at the hole in the wall bar they’d visited. 

“How was it?” Jinyoung asked. He looked to the clock on the bedside. “It’s pretty late. I didn’t even think the taco place would be open this late,” he looked back up to him.

Mark felt awkward under his stare. Hearing the genuine curiosity in his tone tinted with something harder to place. As if he had already inferred that Mark hadn’t visited the taco place at all. “We uh,” he started, averting his eyes. “He took me to Mexico.”

He felt Jinyoung’s blank stare. “The country?” 

“Yeah,” Mark said, voice going suddenly shy. Standing uneven on his feet. “We got dinner and drinks there.”

Jinyoung was quiet for so long that Mark looked back up at him, seeing his wide eyes going distant. That silence stewing too long before Jinyoung spoke softly, “Was it fun?”

Mark considered it. Really thinking it through. How comfortable Youngjae made him feel. How easy he was to be around, to talk to, to joke around with. How his upbeat nature made it impossible to not like him. To not smile along with him. And every little clever quip or bright punch of laughter making him that much more endearing. 

“Yeah,” Mark nodded. “It was really fun.”

Jinyoung went quiet again, his eyes doing that pleading thing that Mark had come to know too well. Though he couldn’t understand what Jinyoung was pleading for. “Are you going to see him again?”

Mark shrugged, “I hope so.”

Jinyoung sat there, book forgotten in his lap. He took a deep breath, letting it all out. “I’m glad you had a good time, Mark,” he said. “Really.”

And Mark could see that he meant it. “Thank you. And thank you for… your help the other night.”

“Yeah,” Jinyoung said, flatly. Perfectly expressionless. “No problem.”

Mark sighed, feeling stupid. Hating dancing around what had happened but not knowing how to talk about. “I should get some sleep.”

“Yeah,” Jinyoung said, his voice still so deadened. “You probably should.”

“Oh,” Mark remembered before he turned away. “Sunny and I are going to Yugyeom’s tomorrow. If you want to come.”

“Okay,” Jinyoung nodded. “Sounds fun.”

That silence hung again. And Mark couldn’t explain the need for it. What was it begging to be filled with? “Well,” he shrugged, turning away and talking over his shoulder. “Have a good night.”

“You too,” Jinyoung said.

And Mark could feel the tightness between his shoulder blades, as if Jinyoung’s wide eyes wouldn’t pull away from him as he found his way to his own room.

\---

Mark was sitting with Jackson and Jaebeom on their deck. In the yard, Jinyoung sat in the grass as Sunny and Yugyeom circled him, tying him up with a jump rope to take him as their prisoner. Mark watched on, smiling at the way Jinyoung embraced his role, shouting out and pretending to squirm under the rope, making the kids scream with laughter.

“How was it?” Jackson asked, pulling Mark’s attention away. “Really, honestly.”

“It was good,” Mark nodded, feeling the smile stretch across his face. “Great, actually.”

Jackson’s eyes were wild with curiosity, “What did he wear?” 

Jaebeom scoffed loud, “Jackson, come on.”

“Fine,” Jackson rolled his eyes. “Where did you go?”

Mark looked at him, smirking. “He took me to his favorite place. In Mexico.”

Jackson’s shoulder sunk, his face falling. “Please don’t tell me he can speak Spanish.”

Mark smiled wide, remembering the way Youngjae had ordered for them with ease, mentioning that he minored in Spanish for his education degree. Letting the conversation ensue about being multilingual. About how the English and Spanish and Korean got jumbled in Youngjae’s head sometimes, different from the practiced way Mark separated English and Mandarin for his job.

“One time,” Youngjae had laughed before the words even came out. “A student in the class cried cause I accidentally talked to Yugyeom in Korean.”

“Why did they cry?” Mark leaned onto the bar, feeling that permanent smile ache across his face.

“They thought I had made up a secret friend language with him and they felt left out,” Youngjae shrugged. “So I had to make up a secret word with them so that they would feel better. Now they say it to me every day when they come into class.”

“Wow,” Jackson gulped. “Why is that so hot?”

Jaebeom slapped his husband upside his head. “Would you-”

“Ow,” Jackson overreacted, rubbing at the spot. “What? Do you know Spanish, Jaebeom?”

His husband turned back to Mark, “What else did you guys talk about?”

Mark thought for a moment. “I mean everything,” he shrugged. “About where we grew up and where we went to school and oh. He told me that he was adopted too.”

“Really?” Jackson’s eyes went wide. “That’s so great that you have that connection.”

“Yeah,” Mark nodded, unconsciously smiling as he thought about it. “He’s really great.”

At that moment, Jinyoung came up from the lawn, pulling his t-shirt away from his sticky chest. Winded from what Mark had to assume was his escape. “What are you guys talking about?” he asked, grabbing a cold drink and sitting down with them.

“Mark was just telling us about his date with Mr. Choi,” Jaebeom beckoned towards him. “Go on, Mark.

And Mark opened his mouth to continue but suddenly, the words wouldn’t come. Feeling that stare of Jinyoung’s eyes focused on him. Paralyzing him. He tried to work past it. “I mean that’s pretty much it,” he said, breathless. “It was fun,” he shrugged, a bit more nonchalant than he’d been before.

Jackson leaned in closer, his eyebrows drawing up alongside his smirk. “Is he a good kisser?”

Mark looked to Jaebeom, waiting for him to stop his husband again. But now he only saw Jaebeom’s eyes staring back with their own curiosity. He looked to Jinyoung, whose face was that same unreadable blank slate he’d seen last night.

“Um…” Mark rubbed his hands together, looking down into them. “I wouldn’t know really.”

“Oh, Mark,” Jackson’s shoulders fell. “What happened? Was he not that into you?”

“No, he was- I just…” Mark’s words fell short.

“You choked, didn’t you?” Jaebeom said, voice serious.

Mark tried to answer, but again, the words wouldn’t come. He thought back to last night. To dropping off Youngjae in front of his apartment. And the way the man had tried to thank him. Tell him he had a good time. And Mark could read his body language well enough to know what he was aiming for. But something in Mark had felt so suddenly, so unexplainably uneasy. So he had fumbled. Made some excuse. Said he should be getting home. That Sunny was waiting for him. And he saw the way Youngjae’s brightness visibly dimmed. How he nodded, wishing him a good night as he left. And even the memory of it was stirring up those same uneasy feelings in him.

Jackson sat back with a sigh, “He totally choked.”

“Mark. Are you serious?” Jaebeom groaned.

“It wasn’t the right time,” Mark said, firmly. Trying to ignore that feeling of Jinyoung watching him. Looking up and confirming it was true. Jinyoung’s mouth was slightly open, his eyes still curious but warm. Harkening too closely back to that night they’d almost...

“Bullshit,” Jackson called.

“Tell me you're going out with him again,” Jaebeom pleaded. “You can’t just let it end there.”

Mark shrugged, “I mean we didn’t talk-”

“Jinyoung,” Jaebeom called to him. “Don’t you think he should go for it?”

Jinyoung was quiet, watching still. “Yeah,” he said, tone flat. Lifeless. “He should totally go for it.”

Mark sighed. Feeling overwhelmed by all the attention. “Let me just have the weekend to think about it.”

\---

It was Monday morning when the doorbell rang and Mark knew it would be Jackson, ready to take Sunny and Yugyeom to school. Mark hurried for the door, throwing it open. Jackson was there in his work clothes like always, but Mark’s eyes immediately fell to the man’s hands in which he held a bright and beautiful bouquet of flowers. Shades of red and yellow and blue fanning outwards in perfect arrangement.

“Jackson,” Mark smirked. “I really appreciate these but my birthday already passed.”

Jackson rolled his eyes. “No, dummy,” he held the bouquet up. “These aren’t for you. They are for Mr. Choi.”

Mark’s face twisted up, “You know you’re married, right?”

“Not from me,” Jackson groaned. “From you.”

Mark stared at him, unblinking. “What?”

Jackson sighed. “Look,” he said, pointing the bouquet towards Mark. “I’m not letting you run away from him just because it’s easier than actually trying for something real.”

Mark’s shoulders sank, hips going lopsided as he shrank away. “I don’t know, Jackson.” 

“What’s wrong with him?” Jackson threw his arms. “Do you like him?” 

“I do, but-”

“What do you like about him?”

Mark sighed, thinking. “He’s fun,” he said, softly. “And level-headed. Very confident. He loves kids,” he listed. “And I just always feel comfortable with him. Like I can trust him, you know?”

Jackson put the flowers to Mark’s chest, forcing him to take them. “Take these to him,” he said, more gentle now.

\---

Mark stared at the flowers on his desk all morning. Distracted from his work. Only thinking of Jackson’s words. Of Youngjae’s face. And Mark knew Jackson was right. He was trying to run. Because he didn’t know how to do relationships. He never had. And Youngjae was amazing, but…  
There was something there. Something holding him back. But he couldn’t place it. And his excuses were running low.

A knock at his office door pulled him away. He looked up, seeing Jinyoung there.

“Hey,” Jinyoung came in, folding his fingers together like he was nervous. “I feel weird asking this.”

Mark felt the immediate creep of panic sprint down his spine, rushing down his limbs in an unstoppable tingle. He knew that Jinyoung would eventually break. He knew that he would eventually have to ask what happened the other night.

“But,” Jinyoung took a deep breath. “Would you mind if I started using your pool?”

That panic in Mark fell flat. “No, why?” he asked. “Just for fun?”

“For exercise,” Jinyoung nodded. “I… you know. I’m supposed to keep in shape. For roles.”

Mark’s mind suddenly went to the other night, the flash of skin at Jinyoung’s hip. The shape of his body, modestly covered by his clothes, yet undoubtedly well-proportioned. But then Mark felt that bite of shame for thinking of Jinyoung’s body at all. “Yeah,” he waved his hand, dismissively. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” He tried to busy himself, tried to refocus on his work. “Just watch out for Sunny.”

“Oh, of course,” he nodded. “I’ll make sure she-” he stopped. “Who are these for?”

Mark looked up, seeing him come closer and reach for the flowers on his desk. “Oh,” he felt that panic welcome itself back. “Jackson brought them.”

“For you?”

“Not exactly,” Mark bit at his lips. Hesitantly saying it. “He wanted me to give them to Mr. Choi.”

Jinyoung’s face fell again. That blank expressionless look. “Oh,” he said. “Are you going to?”

Mark sighed, he drew his knees up in his chair, hugging them close and putting his chin against the top. “I don’t know,” he said, voice small, but honest. He sighed. 

“You’re second guessing it.”

Mark nodded.

“Because of him or because of you?”

Mark kept biting at his lips. “Me,” he said, averting his eyes. “Jackson said I’m running away.”

“You are.”

Mark looked up to him, seeing him stare back.

Jinyoung took in a deep breath. “I don’t want to speak for you. But you seem to like him, Mark. It sounded like you had fun the other night. And, granted, I can’t imagine how scary it is getting back into dating as a single father. But if Mr. Choi is someone who you feel comfortable with, someone who you trust, then… I think it will seem a lot less scary with him.”

In the moment, Mark couldn’t understand how Jinyoung didn’t even know Youngjae, yet could pinpoint exactly how he made Mark feel. Comfortable and positive and… safe. And Mark knew that he hadn’t felt that before. At least not since becoming a dad. Because as a dad, Mark was a leader. And as a leader, his job was to anticipate and worry, to protect Sunny. But with Youngjae, he felt like he could let that go and let him take the lead. Not be the one to worry so much. And that was nice.

Mark reached for the flowers off the desk, holding them up to his face and studying them. “Thank you,” he said, more to the flowers than Jinyoung. “I needed that.”

And when he looked up, Jinyoung had this thin forced smile that made his cheeks look round. “Anytime, Mark.”

\---

When Mark got to Youngjae’s classroom, he was surprised to see it was empty. He carefully came in, looking around at the walls that were brightly decorated from ceiling to floor with all of the projects that the kids had done. Mark stopped at one, finding Sunny’s. It was a picture she drew. The title at the top. _My Family._ And in it, she drew herself in yellow and green crayon. Her cute little braids and her wide smile. And next to her, a taller figure. A gray shirt with UCLA across the front, a blue cape flowing behind.

“Cute, right?” 

Mark turned, seeing Youngjae in the doorway. His hands in the pockets of his black pants, a small smile across his face. 

“I had them draw their families,” he said, coming closer until he was nearly shoulder to shoulder with Mark. Pointing up at Sunny’s project with a smile. “She was the only kid in her class with only one parent. But she was also the only one to draw her parent as a superhero.”

Mark looked up at that picture, wishing he could see himself the way that Sunny saw him. Brave and powerful and sure of himself. He looked to Youngjae. “Where is your class?”

“Recess,” Youngjae said. “But I think the bigger question is why are you here?” he asked, tone lively with that pleasant banter of his.

Mark thought of that superhero on the wall. All that bravery Sunny saw in him. “I brought you these,” he said, holding out the bouquet of flowers.

“Oh,” Youngjae smiled, taking them. “That’s very nice of you.”

“I…” Mark breathed. “I just wanted to let you know that I really enjoyed our date,” he nodded. “And I wanted to know if you wanted to go out again sometime soon.”

Youngjae looked down, quelling a smile as he looked into the flowers. “You didn’t have to come all the way here to ask me out again.”

“I know,” Mark nodded. _Superhero,_ he remembered. “But…,” he came closer, stepping up to Younghae. “I did to do this.” He reached a hand out, cradling the side of Youngjae’s face. He saw the teacher’s eyes go round, his smile fall away. And Mark drew him closer, gingerly pressing his mouth to Youngjae’s.

It had been such a long time since he had kissed someone. And he forgot how nice it was. Smelling the shampoo on Youngjae’s wavy hair and feeling the pleasant warmth of his lips. The slow movement of Youngjae’s hand coming up to grasp at Mark’s waist. His touch not burning through him like Jinyoung’s, but just feeling like steady encouragement, support.

Youngjae pulled away, smiling again, brighter than before. “I was wondering when you were going to do that,” he breathed.

“Sorry,” Mark laughed softly. “It was later than I would have liked, too.” He looked into his eyes, searching for his response. “So is that a yes?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Youngjae laughed. “Of course.” He bit at his lips, his eyes going back down to focus on Mark’s mouth. “Thanks for the flowers. And for going on that adventure with me.”

Mark laughed, “Just don’t tell me that you take every naive single dad to Mexico.”

“Of course not,” Youngjae shook his head, hovering closer. “Only the ones with the best behaved kids.”

“Oh, really?” Mark’s eyes widened along with his smile. “What about the dads of badly behaved kids?”

Youngjae shrugged, whispering, “Well, I assume the dads are like the kids.”

“And? Where do they go?”

Youngjae leaned in, kissing him again. Slowly, lingering just like that steady hand at his waist. “Maybe,” he said, between kisses. “I can show you next time.”

“Okay,” Mark huffed, that hand at Youngjae’s face wrapping around the base of his neck and drawing him in a little firmer.

“But you should go,” Youngjae murmured. “Recess will be over any minute.”

Mark didn’t stop, savoring each small movement of Youngjae’s mouth against his. “But I like this.”

Youngjae laughed, kissing him one last time before grabbing Mark’s hand around his neck and kissing that too, “We can do more of this next time I see you.”

“Promise?” Mark looked down to his smiling mouth, already missing it.

Youngjae nodded, “Promise.”

\---

Jackon squealed so loud from the other end of the line that Mark had to pull the phone away from his ear. “That was me!” he said, voice high. “That kiss was all me right there!”

Mark was swinging his feet against the window seat in his bedroom. It was night now, Sunny had gone to bed not too long ago, and Mark was relishing the cool night breeze floating in from his open window. “Fine, fine.” he laughed. “I owe you my thanks, Jackson.”

“So,” Jaebeom interjected. “Jackson and I were talking about maybe doing a double date sometime soon. Maybe dinner and a movie or-”

Mark scoffed, leaning back against the wall, “Can I just have a second date first?”

“Hey,” Jaebeom defended. “We’ve been waiting just as long as you have Mark. Let us have some fun with this.” 

“Plus,” Jackson added. “You know Mr. Choi would make an excellent addition to the group.”

“Youngjae,” Mark corrected. “Just call him Youngjae, please. So I don’t have to keep thinking about the fact that I’m dating Sunny’s teacher.”

“As if you aren’t into that,” Jackson taunted.

And Mark was about to tell him off but his attention was suddenly pulled away by a loud splash. He turned towards his window, looking down into the backyard.

The pool was lit, reflecting pretty blue light. And against it, Mark could make out the darkened shape of a person. Jinyoung. Swimming laps in his pool. And though it was a little hard to see from above, there was no mistaking the shadows of his muscled back. His shoulder blades that moved with every stroke. His back that tapered down to his narrow waist. His face that breached the surface to breath, whipping wet, black hair from his face.

Mark gulped, his grip around the phone tightening.

“Mark, what’s wrong?” Jackson’s voice cut through his thoughts.

Mark sat up, straighter. Trying to refocus his mind even if his eyes couldn’t pull away from the sight of Jinyoung. “Nothing,” he rushed to say.

“What was that splash?” Jaebeom asked. “Is Sunny swimming? At this hour?”

Jackson groaned. “Don’t tell me a bear found your pool,” he whined. “You know Kathleen down the street had a whole family, mama and cubs, in her pool last summer. They kept coming back all season until she built her fence.”

“It’s not a bear,” Mark sighed. “It’s just… Jinyoung.”

“Jinyoung? Swimming in your pool?” Jackson’s voice pitched higher. “Like shirtless?”

Mark scoffed, “I mean how else-”

“Send pics.”

“Jaebeom!” Jackson scolded, hearing a smack from their side of the call. “But ...really though. We wouldn’t tell on you if you did.”

“You guys are the worst.”

“What? We’d do the same for you if we had a hot actor in our pool.”

Mark put his hand against his face, peeking from between his fingers to keep watching. “Can we please refrain from calling him hot?”

“We all have eyes, Mark,” Jaebeom said, matter of factly.

Mark sighed, not wanting to consider the implication of their words. Nor wanting to admit the validity of them. “On that note,” he said. “I will let you guys go.”

Jackson sputtered, “No, wait-”

But Mark was already hanging up, putting his phone into his lap and leaning a little farther into his window. Knowing that from here Jinyoung couldn’t see him. So he was safe to just innocently watch. Innocently drag his eyes along Jinyoung’s body. Innocently-

His phone vibrated in his lap, he looked to it instinctually, seeing his group chat with Jackson and Jaebeom pinging awake.

_Jackson: Please tell me this was all special effects._

And a moment later, the chat was loading up a picture Jackson had sent. A screenshot from one of Jinyoung’s dramas. His chiseled arms and firm chest. And Mark felt a roar of heat, like water coming to a boil, flood down his body.

Jaebeom sent another, a gif of Jinyoung reaching his arms above his head, incidentally flexing every little rippled muscle. And Mark’s fingers slammed against the screen, muting that chat and throwing his phone back down.

And he just breathed, calming himself down. Before glancing back out the window, down to the dreamily lit pool below. Resigning himself to watching for just a little while longer.

\---

The weekend came and Mark and Youngjae agreed to meet up again. Mark told Jinyoung in the morning, asking him again if he could watch Sunny. But, of course, he agreed. On the condition that he could come grocery shopping with Mark and Sunny, saying he really needed to get out of the house. And though it felt weird for the three of them to be loading up into Mark’s car together, he couldn’t deny how nice it was to have Jinyoung help him make his way through the house grocery list.

“Bread?” Mark looked at the note in his phone, leaning onto the bar of the cart and slowly pushing it down the aisle.

“Check,” Jinyoung said, rummaging through the cart.

“Eggs?”

“Check.”

“Fruit?” 

“Mm,” Jinyoung hummed. “We still need fruit.”

Sunny tugged on Mark’s shirt, “Daddy,” she pointed to the shelf. “Can we get popcorn?”

“Sure,” Mark nodded, grabbing one from where Sunny couldn’t reach and tossing into the cart.

Sunny stood on her tiptoes, reaching in to look more closely at it. “Can we make it tonight when we watch a movie?”

Mark caught Jinyoung stare. Both of them communicating a shared message to each other.

Jinyoung opened his mouth, pointing somewhere behind him, “I’m going to go grab those fruits.” He took off down the aisle, leaving Mark and Sunny alone.

Mark sighed. “Hey, Sunny,” he called, squatting down. “Come here.” And when she came closer, Mark wrapped his arms around her, drawing her into him.

“Dad,” Sunny laughed. “What are you doing?”

Mark buried his head in her small shoulder, “I’m hugging my best friend in the whole wide world.”

“Daaad,” she whined, trying to push him away. “We are in the grocery store. Stop.”

“You know that right?” he hugged her tighter, squeezing her. “That you are my best friend?”

“Yes,” she giggled. “I know that. Let me go.”

Mark smiled, pulling away but still touching her arms. He looked at her seriously. “But you have other friends too, right? You have Yugyeom and your friends at school?”

“Mmhm,” she nodded. “I have a lot of friends.”

“Sunny,” Mark licked his lips. Trying to figure out how to approach this. “You ...like Mr. Choi, right?”

“Yeah,” she smiled. “He’s my favorite teacher ever.”

Mark smiled. “Well, good. I like him, too,” he gripped her hands. “Would you mind if Daddy started being friends with him?”

Sunny’s face was blank for a moment, thinking. Her eyes widened, “Does that mean I can see Coco more often?”

Mark huffed a laugh. “Maybe,” he shrugged. “Would that be okay with you?”

“Yeah. Friends are a good thing.”

Mark smiled. “Even if I want to hang out with him without you?” he asked. “Is that still okay?”

Sunny shrugged her little shoulders, “It’s okay. I have fun without you sometimes too.”

And Mark felt warm with pride. “I wanted to make sure,” he nodded. “Because I care about what you think. You know that, right? You know you can always talk to me?”

Sunny smiled, rolling her eyes exaggeratedly. “Yes, Daddy,” she groaned.

“Okay, good,” Mark laughed. “Plus, Jinyoung told me that he really wanted to watch a movie with just Sunny tonight. So maybe you should ask him. I’m sure it would make him very happy.”

“Really?” 

“Mmhm,” Mark hummed. “And while Sunny watches a movie with Jinyoung, maybe Daddy can go hang out with Mr. Choi? And then tomorrow you can tell me all about what you guys did.”

Sunny nodded. “Okay.”

Jinyoung suddenly came up the aisle with an armful of peaches, depositing them one by one into the cart.

“Jinyoung,” Sunny skipped over to him, tugging on the leg of his pants. “Do you want to watch a movie with me tonight? Only me?”

Jinyoung looked up to Mark, blinking.

Mark nodded with a smile.

Jinyoung bent down towards her. “Yeah, Sunny,” he reached out ruffling her bangs against her forehead. “I would really like that.”

\---

Mark didn’t mean to end up here. At least not this fast. If he had been the one calling the shots, he probably would have taken Youngjae out at least a half dozen more times. Gone on that double date with Jackson and Jaebeom. Spent long nights googling exactly what the appropriate amount of time was. Belabored the thought endlessly until the idea was nearly too anxiety provoking to even consider making a reality.

Which is why it was perhaps perfect when Youngjae had been the one to tell him to come up to his apartment. Said he was running late and just needed another minute to get ready. And yet, when Mark had knocked on his door, he didn’t even get to a third knock before it was swinging open and Youngjae was grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him inside.

And somewhere between the flurry of kisses, Mark had already seemed to end up with his back against Youngjae’s couch as the man sat in his lap, licking into his mouth, arms wrapped around his neck.

“So, this is what you meant?” Mark panted against his mouth. “This is where you take the badly behaved dads?”

Youngjae laughed, lips going into his jaw, “Don’t act like you didn’t know exactly what I was talking about.”

Mark smiled, hands smoothing down Youngjae’s sides and resting against his tight waist. “I’m just surprised, Mr. Choi.”

“Well, get used to it. I’m full of surprises,” Youngjae sat back into his lap, looking down at him. “Take your shirt off.”

Mark felt Youngjae’s quick words travel downward, causing some involuntary kick of his hips, like an instinct he forgot he even had. “God,” he half-groaned. “You’re bossy.”

Youngjae smiled, wide and confident. “You like it,” he breathed, hands going to the hem of his own shirt and pulling it over his head.

Mark followed him, casting his shirt off onto the living room floor, hands going up to grab the man’s face, drawing it closer and kissing him more. “I thought you’d at least be taking me out to eat tonight though.”

“Dinner can wait,” Youngjae huffed, leaning off of him. “This can’t.” He grabbed at Mark’s hips, manhandling him onto his stomach.

“Fuck,” Mark moaned, grinding himself down into the couch and feeling ever so thankful that it was Youngjae.

\---

When Mark got home, it was closer to dawn than dusk. Dinner had happened after they managed to put their clothes back on. But then somehow after dinner, Mark ended up back at Youngjae’s just to tear the same clothes off again. So by the time he walked into the house, he was still slightly buzzed on body contact and the soreness of muscles he hadn’t used in a long time was starting to set in. But even despite that, he felt light and airy and… good.

He was about to head upstairs to his room, when he felt a cool draft. And he looked across the living room, seeing the sliding glass door to the pool pulled open. And outside, Jinyoung was sitting in a deck chair, a book in his lap.

Mark should have probably just gone to bed, but that lightness, much like last time, had him drifting towards the door. He stepped outside. “You are still up,” he commented.

Jinyoung turned, blinking up at him. “Yeah,” he said, voice soft as it carried through the night air. “I just… couldn’t sleep.”

“I’m sorry,” Mark came forward, plopping down in the chair next to him. Trying not to wince. “Did you and Sunny have a good night?”

“Yeah,” Jinyoung nodded, dog-earing his page in his book and putting it down. “Well, I burnt the first popcorn. But she made the second one perfectly.”

Mark huffed to himself, looking out over the faint blue light of the pool. Feeling that cool breeze ruffling his hair, his thoughts.

“How was your date?” Jinyoung asked.

Mark nodded. “It was good,” he smiled. “He’s really good.” He looked over, catching Jinyoung’s curious expression. “I mean he’s fun. To hang out with.”

“So,” Jinyoung’s hands tightened around the edge of his book. “You’ll keep seeing him?”

And there was something a little different in it this time. Barely noticeable. A certain tightness in the words that had Mark stiffening. “Why wouldn’t I?” 

“I don’t know,” Jinyoung shrugged. “It just ...seems like it’s happening pretty fast.”

Mark blinked, feeling a sudden irritation that he couldn’t explain. “You were the one to encourage me,” he said, voice sharp, accusatory.

Jinyoung shook his head, “I didn’t necessarily say you should jump into a serious relationship, I just-”

“What’s up with you?” Mark asked, perplexed. “Why are you suddenly against this?”

“I’m not,” Jinyoung fought back, everything about the man seeming small from the way his shoulders caved together to the way he was turning himself away in his chair. “I’m trying to be supportive. I am. But ...it’s more complicated than just whether or not you like him, Mark.”

Mark’s eyes narrowed, crossing his arms over his chest. “How so?”

“I’m…” Jinyoung’s words trailed off, trying to find them again. He huffed. Voice coming out small, barely audible above the breeze. “I am just thinking about Sunny-”

“Oh no,” Mark huffed, sitting back in his chair. “You are not playing that card.”

Jinyoung looked back at him, face twisting up, “What card?”

Mark felt himself rush to that biting anger. The one he hadn’t revisited in awhile. Feeling all those same feelings he had when he first met Jinyoung. The defensiveness, the dread, the resentment. “Don’t try and act like me dating Youngjae isn’t good for Sunny,” he glared. “Not when you were the one to convince me to do it.”

“Mark,” Jinyoung groaned. He shook his head. “That’s not what I’m trying to say.”

“Then what are you trying to say, Jinyoung?” Mark threw his hands. “Hm? Cause you sure as hell aren’t making any sense.”

Jinyoung just stared back, those wide pleading eyes transfixed on his face. Everything in his body language screaming bruised and exasperated. He took a deep breath. “I’m pretty tired,” he whispered. “I think I should just head to sleep.”

“Fine,” Mark swallowed, defiantly sitting back in his chair.

Jinyoung got up, going to leave. “Have a good night, Mark,” he said, expressionless.

And Mark didn’t answer, just let him go. Kept staring into that pool, thinking and thinking. And he couldn’t tell if it was just the residual anger clouding his mind, but no matter how many times he replayed Jinyoung’s words, nothing in his reaction made any sense. Mark sighed, whispering to himself. 

“What’s his problem?”


	6. Six.

Mark and Jinyoung were maybe getting too good at defaulting to not talking. Too good at putting on the adult air that everything between them was cordial while never actually addressing what needed to be addressed. So much so that Sunny didn’t seem to notice when the two weren’t really speaking for the next couple of days.

But it still wore on Mark. Made him feel unfathomably uneasy in his own home whenever he and Jinyoung would cross paths. Even when they wouldn’t, even when Mark would watch the man’s nightly swim from the safety of his bedroom window, it still gave him this tense feeling. Like his guard was perpetually up. Ready at any moment to defend himself if Jinyoung decided to bring up what they’d talked about in the backyard. But he never did, he just stayed quiet, perhaps a bit sulky, anytime Mark caught sight of him in the house. And all that wearing down had him needing something that he couldn’t put his finger on.

It was sometime around ten, after Sunny had already gone to sleep for the night, that Mark knocked on Jinyoung’s bedroom door and heard him call back a steady, “Come in.”

“Hey,” Mark leaned into the doorway, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m heading over to Youngjae’s for a few hours.”

Jinyoung was sitting up in his bed, laptop balanced on his lap. He looked back at him. Face blank.

Mark tensed up under his stare, arms tightening across him. “I’ll be back before she wakes up,” he said. “Just call me if anything.”

Jinyoung didn’t react. He just kept watching him.

Mark felt heated. “Nothing?” he narrowed his eyes. “You’re not going to say one word to me?”

“Go, Mark,” Jinyoung said quietly, returning to what he was looking at.

And Mark sighed, starting to close the door before his eyes fell to the floor. And near the corner of the bed, Jinyoung’s luggage sat, seemingly full. Packed. And it had Mark’s stomach giving an involuntary churn. But he didn’t say anything, he just left without a word.

\---

Not even a half hour later, Mark was laying in Youngjae’s bed, staring up at the ceiling as Coco curled up on his stomach, letting herself be pet while she dozed off.

“I can’t believe it,” Youngjae laughed, stretching out beside him. “She doesn’t ever do this with anyone but me.”

And it made Mark smile, more than most things had the past couple of days. He stretched out her white ears, watching her raise her little head for a moment to stare at him annoyed. “She trusts me.”

“Mmm,” Youngjae hummed. “She has good taste.”

Mark smiled, smoothing his hands over her again and watching her settle back down. He looked over to Youngjae. He was leaned up on his side, hand cradling his face. 

“What?” he asked, seeing the question in his face.

“You’re,” Mark hesitated, focusing his eyes on Coco again. “You’re adopted, right?”

Youngjae nodded. “Yeah.”

Mark saw the rise and fall of Coco against his stomach as he pet her. Quelling that side of himself that wanted to shy away from what was bothering him. He had considered talking to Jaebeom or Jackson but they were both so biased in different ways. Mark just needed a neutral party. “Did you ever meet your birth parents?”

Youngjae paused. He nodded, “I did.”

Mark looked over, eyes going wider, “When?” Slightly surprised by his response.

“When I was in college.”

“Why then?”

Youngjae shrugged, “I guess when I was younger, I didn’t really think about it. My parents were my parents. And that was all that mattered. But as I grew up, I started to be more and more aware of it. Of the way my friends at school would talk about looking like their parents or having their traits. Or talk about knowing their background. Their lineage. And I didn’t have any of that. I sometimes just felt like this entirely new species that no one knew anything about.”

“But,” Youngjae reached out, scratching at Coco’s ear passively. “I also felt guilty wanting to know more. Because I didn’t want to invalidate the love my parents had for me. So I waited until I moved out and went to college. Then, I went looking for answers. Booked a trip to Korea. Because I just… wanted to see. Wanted to know.”

“And?”

“They were…” Youngjae sighed, rolling onto his back to stare up at the ceiling. “Just people.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” Youngjae shrugged. “I guess I had worked up this idea in my mind. That they were either trailer trash who were in and out of prison or they were saints who were going to accept me back in with loving arms. But it wasn’t really either of those things. They were just people. People who got pregnant in high school in a culture that didn’t make it easy for them to raise a child. They had concerns about the life they’d be able to give me and that’s valid. And their relationship didn’t last but they stayed in contact. They lived ordinary lives. They got married. They had kids of their own. And they were happy to get to know me a little more.”

“It must have still been difficult though.”

“I think the most difficult part was that I already had parents. And they already had families as well. So by the time we met, we didn’t know what role to play in each other’s lives. Them being parent figures wasn’t right. Not when I was already nearly twenty,” he shook his head. “But there’s no handbook for how to navigate those dynamics, what they should look like. So we just had to take some time and be honest about our expectations. How we wanted to be involved in each other’s lives.”

“And now?”

“It’s fine,” Youngjae shrugged. “I visit them whenever I’m able to go to Korea. Get their families’ Christmas card. It doesn’t get in the way of what I have with my parents. It’s just… nice. Maybe a little anticlimactic. But in a good way.” He thought for a moment. “I was,” he laughed slightly. “A bit delusional to think it would be some grand reunion. Tears and apologies and them begging me to stay. Looking back on it, I think it was much more tears for my actual parents. They were so scared that I’d forsake them for this… authentic version of a family? And that there would be no room for them.”

Mark’s stomach clenched under Coco. “Yeah,” he sighed. “I know the feeling.”

Youngjae leaned his head onto Mark’s shoulder. “But it was stupid of them to think that. Because years of them raising me couldn’t just be erased by some shared DNA,” he looked up to Mark’s face. “And you should know that.”

Mark’s mouth flattened into a thin line. “I’m trying to remember that,” he said softly.

Youngjae readjusted himself, eyebrows furrowing. “Why?” he asked. “Has Sunny been asking?”

“No,” Mark shook his head. “No, nothing like that.”

Youngjae’s voice was soft, soothing, “You’ve just been thinking about it?”

“Yeah,” Mark sighed, exasperated. “A lot lately.”

“Did you ever meet them? Her biological parents?”

“No,” Mark said, a little too quickly. Because he couldn’t bear explaining himself. Even if it meant lying, again. “But,” he hesitated. “I guess, I’m still trying to figure out what her meeting them would look like. How I would want them to be involved.”

“Well,” Youngjae sat up, reaching for a mug of tea on the bedside table and taking a sip. “It’s not always your choice.”

“What do you mean?” Mark looked at him.

Youngjae shrugged, putting it back. “It’s her choice. And the parents’ choice too.”

And Mark probably distantly knew that, yet it wasn’t something he’d really put into words. The idea that Jinyoung was choosing to be there. Choosing to step away from his life, his work, to become involved in Sunny’s life. And Mark was holding it over the man’s head, calling all the shots. And he suddenly had a feeling like maybe all these efforts to keep Sunny safe were impeding her and Jinyoung’s relationship from being more.

“I like that about you,” Youngjae said, suddenly.

Mark pulled himself away from his thoughts, looking up at him. “What?”

“You care. A lot. Sometimes too much,” Youngjae reached out, scooping Coco up with one hand and kissing the back of her a few times before gently placing her on the floor next to the bed.

“Yeah,” Mark sighed, watching Coco shake herself. A little botheredness in her little white face as she went to go lay in her dog bed.

“But,” Youngjae slid himself into Mark’s lap. “Caring doesn’t always have to mean worrying.”

“Didn’t you know?” Mark smiled, hands coming up Youngjae’s thighs, resting on his hips. “Worrying is my Olympic sport of choice.”

“Please,” Youngjae rolled his eyes, grabbing Mark’s hands and intertwining their fingers. He leaned down, pinning his hands over his head. “There are other sports you’ve proven to be much better at,” he kissed his neck.

Mark laughed, fingers gripping into his. He squirmed under the ticklish brush of his lips. “Show me then.”

Youngjae hummed in his ear. “I mean if you insist.”

\---

By the time Mark got home, the light in Jinyoung’s bedroom was off. And so he waited till the next night, after Sunny had gone to bed, listening for the splash of the pool from his bedroom window. And when it came, he went downstairs and slid the glass door open. Watching as Jinyoung practiced his fluid strokes back and forth. His back that sleek plane of muscle that coasted under the thin surface of the water, silhouetted in blue light.

Mark tried to push down whatever was trying to tangle itself up in knots inside of him as he came forward, sitting down at the edge of the pool, criss-crossing his legs.

And it only took a few more strokes before Jinyoung was coming to an abrupt stop, righting himself and pushing his wet hair from his face. Winded and treading water. Eyes round, concerned.

“Hey,” Mark breathed, hearing it ripple off the water.

Jinyoung’s chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. “Hey.”

Mark tried to keep his eyes above the water. “Can we talk?”

Jinyoung nodded, swimming over and crossing his arms over the cement edge. Looking up at him.

Mark tried not to fall into some trap of staring but it was hard when the muscles of Jinyoung’s arms were shining in the low light. His eyes so pretty and timid. Mark had to force himself to speak, if only to distract himself. “I wanted to apologize for the other night,” he said. “I…” he sighed. “I think I understand what made you upset.”

“You do?” Jinyoung blinked up at him.

Mark looked down into his hands, fidgeting with his nails. “You are scared,” he started. “That if things get serious with Youngjae, he’ll be more like a dad to Sunny than you are. Right?”

Jinyoung was quiet for a long moment. “Yeah,” he nodded. “That’s it.”

Mark sighed. “I don’t want you to think like that,” he shook his head, voice shy. “I mean we’ve only been seeing each other for a couple of weeks.”

Jinyoung was quiet, eyes averted across the lawn as he rested his chin against his arms in thought.

“But,” Mark started again. “I know it’s scary for you because your role in Sunny’s life hasn’t been defined. We have never really talked about what kind of relationship you want to have with her.”

Jinyoung looked back up at him. “I guess-,” he swallowed. “I was just desperate to be a part of her life at all. I was willing to take what I could get. I’m not even sure I had an idea of what I really wanted.”

“I see that,” Mark agreed. “And everything, so far, has been based on what I wanted for her. My terms. And I can see that isn’t exactly fair. To expect you to live at my whim.”

Jinyoung was silent, the blue light of the pool reflecting ebbing patterns across his face, his skin. “You saw it, didn’t you?” he asked, voice soft. “My bag in my room.”

Mark's stomach mimicked that same churn it had given when he saw it last night. He nodded. “Why were you packed?” he asked. “Do you want to go back home?”

“No,” Jinyoung shook his head. “But you were mad. And I thought you’d tell me to leave. I was trying to prepare myself for it.”

Mark felt a stab of guilt. That he’d made Jinyoung’s place in Sunny’s life, in his life, feel so insecure. Something Mark was willing to pitch whenever he felt like it. “Jinyoung,” he closed his eyes for a moment, looking back to him. “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have had to worry about that.” 

Jinyoung ran his hand through his hair, nervous. “It’s okay,” he said, sniffling at little. “I see now it’s not what you intended.”

Mark reached forward, fingers combing through the water and watching how it swirled. “Well,” he licked his lips. “I wanted to talk to you. And maybe create some goals. Because obviously it’s a little soon to be telling Sunny exactly who you are. But I want you to feel like you can be open with me about how you and Sunny’s relationship could look one day. And how we can start working towards that.”

“What do you mean?” Jinyoung asked, eyebrows tilting up.

And wow, it was hard for Mark to think critically when he was looking at him like- “What do you want to do?” Mark asked. “What could bring you both closer?”

Jinyoung unfolded his arms, pushing away from the ledge with his feet. He looked up toward the sky as he floated on the surface of the water, thinking.

And Mark watched him. Watched how every part of his body was gently bobbing against the surface of the water. Water pooling in the crevices of his muscled core, firm chest rounding above the surface, hair like ink that snaked with every slow movement. Mark fought the urge to reel him back toward him. 

Jinyoung stopped, treading water. “I want to teach her some Korean,” he said.

Mark blinked. “Fair,” he nodded.

“And,” Jinyoung breathed. “I want to spend time with her. Alone. Out. I want you to trust me with her.”

Mark’s shoulder sunk, hurting a little at the realization that he really hadn’t trusted him. Even if he never had a reason not to. “Okay,” he agreed, thinking. “How about…” he looked up into the sky. “Twice a week?” he looked at him. “You can take the car. Have your own adventure with her.”

“I’d like that.”

Mark watched him continue to tread, the look on his face restraining something. “What else?” he asked. “You can tell me.”

Jinyoung dipped his head under the water, coming forward again and brushing the hair from his face with both hands before letting his hands rest against the nape of his neck. “I want you…” he bit his lips, not wanting to say it. “I don’t need you to say you’ll do it soon,” he prefaced. “But maybe. In the summer. For her birthday. We could go to Korea. All of us.”

Mark’s chest swelled with a mix of fear and thrill “That’s,” he thought. “That’s a lot.”

“I know, but,” Jinyoung withheld, head rolling against his hands. His voice going quiet, “I want to be the one to show it to her.”

Mark couldn’t help but smile a little at the sentiment. “I’ll think about it,” he nodded. “But in the meantime,” he started to stand. “I think the other two are a good start.”

“I agree,” Jinyoung finally smiled.

And it was the first genuine one Mark had seen aimed at him in days. He hesitated to say he missed it. Instead, he leaned forward, reaching out his hand. “Can we shake on it?”

Jinyoung reached up, his wet hand brushing Mark’s. Feeling soft and wrinkled as they shook hands. He kicked away from the wall again, letting Mark’s hand slip away. Starting to laugh.

Mark’s mouth tugged up, “What’s so funny?”

Jinyoung hid half his face under the surface for a moment, only the line of his curious, smirking eyes staring back. All that ebbing blue light reflecting against the gloss of them. He rose back up to speak. “I thought about pulling you in.”

Mark smiled. “But you didn’t.”

Jinyoung took a deep breath, shrugging his shoulders above the water with a wet plop. “I want you to come in on your own accord.”

Mark felt too much in the wake of his words, his smirking eyes drawn up to him. He stood, frozen again by that push and pull of tension, towards Jinyoung and away from him, just like when he had him pinned against that wall. But if then it had been an evenly split fifty fifty, it now felt a little off balance. A sixty forty? A seventy thirty? Mark didn’t know, all he did know was that the scale had ever so slightly tipped toward him. And Mark didn’t know what to do with that.

He tried to pull himself away, taking a breath. He smiled, somewhere between sincere and suffering. “Maybe another time,” he said, turning away and walking himself back into the house where Jinyoung wouldn’t bear witness to the all encompassing panic crawling beneath the surface.

\---

The double date that Jackson and Jaebeom had been begging Mark for actually happened, while Jinyoung watched Sunny and Yugyeom at home. And the whole outing went just as well as Mark knew it would. Because Youngjae was social and funny and dazzling and easy to love. And his friends didn’t hesitate to bask in it. In fact, the only thing that went amiss was when Jackson and Jaebeom tried to argue that fathers have higher alcohol tolerances than school teachers to which Youngjae argued they should try and test. Mark respectfully bowed out, saying that someone needed to be able to drive. Which led to the table ordering enough drinks to have Jackson and Jaebeom forgetting about the challenge entirely by the end of the night.

As the four of them came out of the restaurant, Jackson nearly stumbled over the curb, his husband catching him with a demented laugh before they both fell over, a pile of limbs and laughter.

“Oh god,” Mark sighed, his arm around Youngjae’s waist. “Look what you’ve done to them. They are wasted.”

“We are fine,” Jackson yelled, waving from his place on the concrete. “Just sleepy. Just going to take a little nap.”

“Bullshit,” Mark glared. He dashed forward, prying the car keys from Jaebeom’s fingers, “Let me have those. I’m taking you both home.”

“You sure you can do it yourself?” Youngjae said, grabbing him by his waist and pulling him back. “I could come over. Help you.”

And Mark could have used the help, but he also knew that Youngjae couldn’t come over to his house. Not with Jinyoung there. It would be too much to explain and tonight wasn’t the best time to explain it. “No, no, no,” he shook his head. “It’s fine. Really. I can take care of them. This isn’t the first time.”

Youngjae’s eyes were soft, empathetic. “You’re a good friend,” he smiled, reaching up to tuck a piece of Mark’s hair away. 

“You sure you are okay on your own?” Mark questioned.

“Oh, yeah,” he nodded. “This was child’s play.”

“Apparently,” Mark looked over to Jackson and Jaebeom on the ground. Jackson trying unsuccessfully to kick Jaebeom off him. “Because now I have two large children to care for.”

Youngjae laughed, “Have fun.” He reached out, pulling Mark’s chin towards him and looking in his eyes. “I’ll see you soon?”

Mark smiled, “Yeah.” He nodded. “Of course.”

Youngjae pulled him in, kissing him.

“Yeah!” Jackson and Jaebeom howled and whooped from their pile. “Wooooooo!”

Mark laughed as he pulled away. “Go,” he said, pushing Youngjae. “Drive safe.”

“Okay,” Youngjae nodded. “Have a good night everyone.” He waved, heading off towards his own car.

Mark watched him fondly. Seeing Youngjae look over his shoulder, smirking and winking.

“God,” Jackson whined. “Mr. Choi is so hot.”

“Don’t worry,” Mark laughed. “You told him. About four times.”

“Whatever,” Jackson shrugged under Jaebeom’s body weight. “I’m married. Stop thinking I’m going to steal your boyfriend.”

Mark rolled his eyes, “He’s not my-”

Jaebeom spoke out, a slurring of words in a pattern that Mark couldn’t catch.

“What?” he reached forward, grabbing Jaebeom’s shoulder and flipping him.

Jaebeom repeated himself more forcefully.

And Mark’s shoulders sunk, remembering how Jaebeom tended to default to Korean when he was past the point of coherency. “Fucking A, you guys,” he breathed, reaching down and offering Jaebeom a helping hand. “Like children, I swear…” he muttered under his breath.

\---

“What happened?” Jinyoung asked as soon as he opened the door to the backseat and saw Jaebeom spilling out, still an incoherent mix of Korean and laughter falling from his mouth. His eyes crescented in a smile as he looked up to Jinyoung, trying to reach out towards him with grabby hands.

Mark sighed. “A school teacher drank two light weight dads under the table,” he shrugged. “Just help me get them inside? Please?”

“Alright,” Jinyoung nodded. “Good thing the kids are already asleep.”

“I’ll get Jackson. You get Jaebeom,” Mark said, rounding back to the other side of the car. He reached out grabbing Jackson’s arm and hoisting him around his shoulder. “Come on, big guy,” he groaned. “Let’s get you in bed.”

“Where’s Yugyeom?” Jackson whined. “Where’s my baby?”

“He’s sleeping,” Mark reminded him.

“Let me see him,” Jackson pleaded. “Please. I love him so much.”

Mark rolled his eyes as he closed the door with his foot and made his way up the driveway. “Shh, you’ll wake up him and Sunny. You’ll see him as soon as you wake up tomorrow. I promise.” He looked up, seeing Jaebeom slung around Jinyoung’s shoulder, head turned and speaking Korean emphatically in his ear. And Jinyoung intermittently was speaking back.

“What is he saying?” Mark asked.

Jinyoung smiled, “He’s just repeating lines from dramas of mine.”

“Oh my god,” Mark’s face fell, feeling a creep of second hand embarrassment. “I am so sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” Jinyoung laughed. “I’m honestly kind of impressed.”

They carried them inside. “Where are you going with them?” Jinyoung whispered, trying to keep quiet so the kids wouldn’t wake up.

“Up to my room,” Mark beckoned, heading for the stairs. “Jackson, come on. Left foot, right foot.” He started to walk in step with him up the staircase.

“Where are you going to sleep?” Jinyoung called from behind him.

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” Mark looked over his shoulder, pulling Jackson’s arm tighter around his shoulder.

Mark and Jinyoung took the couple up to Mark’s room, depositing them on either side of his bed. Mark pulled back the blankets, covering the both of them and trying to keep all their arms and legs contained, while Jinyoung went and got them glasses of water for later.

“Thank you, Mark,” Jackson whimpered, grabbing his arm and nuzzling against it. “I love you so much. You’re one of my greatest friends. I’m so blessed to have you in my life.”

“I love you too,” Mark sighed. “But no funny business in my bed, okay?”

“Not an issue,” Jinyoung piped up as he came back in, putting each glass of water on either bedside table.

Mark looked up at him, “Why?”

Jinyoung pointed. “Jaebeom’s already passed out.”

And sure enough, Jaebeom was drooling onto the pillow, arms bent into weird angles as he dozed.

“Good lord,” Mark sighed. “Well, that’s that. Have a good night you two. See you in the morning.”

“Goodnight, Mark,” Jackson waved. “Goodnight, Jinyoung.”

Mark went downstairs, getting a pillow and blanket from the linen closet and setting up his space on the couch. He spread the blanket out carefully, fluffing the pillow. But as he heard someone coming down the staircase, he looked up over the edge of the couch to see who it was.

It was Jinyoung, slowing down as his eyes met Mark’s. “Hey,” he stilled. “Are you really going to sleep down here?”

Mark nodded, standing upright. “Yeah. Why?”

Jinyoung rounded the edge of the couch, checking out his setup. “Mark. It’s your house. You shouldn’t be on the couch,” he huffed. “Why don’t I take this. And you can take my bed.”

Mark’s face twisted up. “No way,” he shook his head. “Jinyoung, it’s one night. It’s fine.”

Jinyoung blinked, eyes so bright in the darkness of the living room that Mark couldn’t help but admire them. “Then, share with me.”

Mark froze. “What?”

Jinyoung shrugged. “Come up to my room and share with me,” His tone so light and carefree when he spoke that it was hard to remember what he was asking. 

Mark suddenly had to question whether he had been the one who went drinking because everything felt a little hazy. A little dizzy. A little unreal. Drunk off merely the idea of what Jinyoung was suggesting. He glared at him. “Jinyoung,” he scoffed, trying to sober himself but overcompensating with firmness. “Stop.”

And Jinyoung’s face shifted, no longer that carefree brightness under Mark’s intense gaze, but something heavier. “What’s the big deal, Mark?” he murmured, voice so deep and warm in his ears. “Is it your boyfriend?”

Mark felt that intoxication dripping through him, the haziness that he couldn’t fight off, though he continued to try. He crossed his arms over his chest. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Then, come on,” Jinyoung stepped a little closer, reaching up and curving his hand around the nape of Mark’s neck. His fingertips smooth and warm against his skin. His eyes just as heavy and dark as his voice. “Just one night.”

“Jinyoung.” Mark said his name again, but this time it wasn’t agitated. It was desperate. And yet, he had no idea what he was desperate for. For Jinyoung to drop this? For him to keep going?

“What?” Jinyoung furrowed his brows, studying Mark’s face. Like he couldn’t understand. “What’s stopping us?”

Mark couldn’t move, feeling the insistent brush of Jinyoung’s fingers against his skin, hot like a brand that would leave a mark. Questioning whether Jinyoung was even talking about sharing a bed anymore or something else entirely. Mark felt flushed across his neck and down his shoulders, not knowing how to respond. And he suddenly felt those tipping scales that paralyzed him. Weighing heavier and heavier towards Jinyoung. So much so that he felt like he was losing his balance, his gravity shifting towards him. Ready to fall. 

Mark suddenly felt another set of eyes on him. He looked up, seeing Jaebeom standing at the bottom of the staircase, an empty water glass in his hand. A blank, frozen stare across his face.

That flush of heat rushed straight to his face. He shrugged off Jinyoung’s grip, stepping away from him. “What’s wrong, Jaebeom?”

Jaebeom responded, of course, in quiet, murmured Korean. The strings of words too long. Going on and on.

Mark looked to Jinyoung, “What’s he saying?”

Jinyoung sighed, shoulders a little tighter than they had been a moment ago. “He wants more water.”

Mark came forward, grabbing the water glass from his hand and taking it to the kitchen. He leaned his forehead against the cold fridge as he refilled it. Trying to cool himself down, shake the influx of sensations. The sight of Jinyoung’s heady eyes. The feel of his touch against Mark’s neck. “Stop, stop, stop,” he murmured to himself. “Don’t be weird. He’s her-” And he didn’t say the word, but he thought it. And when he went silent, waiting for the glass to fill, he could hear the quiet Korean whispering of Jinyoung and Jaebeom in the living room. Unable to place the tone they were speaking in other than hushed.

Mark came back out, noticing how they both went quiet. He handed the glass back to Jaebeom. “Here,” he offered. “Back to bed.”

Jaebeom spoke again, slowly turning away to go up the stairs.

“He said thanks and have a good night,” Jinyoung translated.

“You too,” Mark said, urging him up the stairs. “Go.”

And then Mark and Jinyoung were alone again. Distance plaguing them, both physical and mental. Mark’s eyes averted as he spoke up. “You should go,” he said. “I’m going to be out here.” He motioned to the couch.

Jinyoung took a deep breath. “Okay,” he said. “Have a good night, Mark.” He turned going up the stairs with slow, quiet steps.

Mark laid down onto the couch. “You, too,” he chirped, voice small. And he settled in for a long night of staring at the ceiling and replaying everything about that interaction.

\---

“Sunny!” Mark called, down the hall a few days later. “Come on. Are you ready?”

“Just a minute,” he heard her shout back from her room.

Mark sighed, turning back to Jinyoung sitting at the kitchen table. “Are you okay on time?”

Jinyoung looked up from the coffee he was drinking. “Yeah,” he waved him away. “The arboretum is open all day.”

Whatever had happened a few nights before was never addressed. They just simply moved on as soon as they woke up the next day and made breakfast for the house. As if they were getting better at not letting awkwardness linger between them despite the intensity of the encounter. Mark sat himself on the edge of the table. “Are you excited?” he asked. “First Jinyoung Sunny outing? Jinny? Sunyoung?”

And Jinyoung was about to answer when a sudden yawn had him covering his mouth with his hand.

Mark looked at him, studying his features. The slight bleariness in his eyes clouding their usual clarity. “You look tired,” he furrowed his brows. “Did you sleep okay?”

Jinyoung shook away the remnants of that yawn, “I was just up late talking to my family last night.”

“Are they okay?”

“Yeah,” Jinyoung drank his coffee. “It’s just Chuseok over there. So I wanted to be there, even if it was just over video.”

And it raised a question that he hadn’t really considered, “Do they… know what you are doing here?”

“No,” Jinyoung shook his head, spinning the mug against the table. “They think it’s something for work.”

“You didn’t tell your own family?” 

Jinyoung looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Have you told yours?”

Mark felt the guilt circulating. Because, just like with Youngjae, he hadn’t known how to discuss it with them yet. “Fair,” he shrugged. “You must miss them.”

“I do,” he nodded. “But this is more important.”

Mark looked at him. Hearing those same words he’d said before. But each time he said them, Mark felt like he understood more. Because he saw how much Jinyoung was willing to risk, willing to prioritize to be with Sunny. And it had Mark’s heart swelling inside his chest.

The sound of Sunny’s feet echoed through the hall, getting closer and closer. “I’m ready, I’m ready, I’m ready,” she ran into the kitchen. She was dressed, a backpack over her shoulder. “Can you help?” she held out a hair tie to Mark. Bright orange today.

“Sure,” he squatted down to her. “What do you want?”

“Just a ponytail.”

“Okay,” Mark gathered up her hair in his hands. He looked down to her backpack, tapping it with his hand. “What do you got in here?”

“Everything we will need,” she started to list. “Snacks for if we get hungry or see a squirrel. A notebook so we can draw the flowers we see. And a jar in case we see any bugs that Yugyeom might like.”

Mark smiled, securing her hair, “Sounds like you are excited.”

“I am,” Sunny turned around, looking up at him. “Are you going to be okay, Daddy? By yourself?”

“Yup. I’ll be perfectly okay,” he nodded, grabbing her shoulders. “You’ll be home for dinner, right?”

Sunny turned, looking to Jinyoung.

Jinyoung downed the last bit of his coffee. “Yes,” he nodded. “We will be home for dinner.” He started to stand up, gathering his things.

Mark adjusted the straps of her bag against her shoulders. “It will be ready when you come home,” he smiled. “Okay?”

Sunny nodded, “Okay. Bye, Dad.” She reached out, hugging him.

“Have fun,” Mark hugged her back, kissing the top of her head. “And be good for Jinyoung, okay?”

“Yes, Dad,” she pulled away, rushing to grab Jinyoung’s hand as they left. “See you!”

Mark followed them, watching out the front window as they pulled away. Feeling much of those same feelings he felt on her first days of schools. A mix of eagerness alongside the nerves. But it wasn’t nearly as bad as he imagined it would be. Which felt important. Like maybe he was learning to trust Jinyoung more than he had in the past. Learning not to be resentful towards him, but grateful for him. Grateful for the choice he’d made to be there for Sunny. He took out his phone, dialing.

“Hello?”

“Youngjae,” Mark started to pace the living room. “I need some help.”

“Of course,” he answered, brightly. “What do you need?”

Mark held his breath, sighing. “How would I go about celebrating Chuseok?”

Youngjae huffed a laugh, “Why are you asking?”

Mark crossed his arms over his chest. “I wanted to celebrate,” he said, giving his best half-truth. “For Sunny.”

“Well,” Youngjae sighed, thinking. “First off and most importantly. Food.”

“Food?” Mark questioned. “What kind of food?”

“Well, you _have_ to get-” he paused. “Do you have something to write with?”

“Yeah,” Mark hustled for the kitchen. “Hold on.”

Mark took down Youngjae’s careful instructions, thanking him profusely and promising to report back on how it went. He made a list for the grocery store, getting ready to go. Figuring he could walk to the closest one in his neighborhood, though he wasn’t sure they’d have all the ingredients that Youngjae had talked about. When he was all ready, he opened the door and looked up to see someone already on his front porch.

“Jaebeom?” he questioned.

The man’s face smiled nervously, “Hi.”

Mark stared at him, knowing it wasn’t customary for Jaebeom to show up like this. “What’s up?” he asked, crossing his arms, already suspicious.

“Sorry, I didn’t call ahead,” he fidgeted his hands together. “I was wondering if I could stay over tonight.”

“Why?”

Jaebeom went silent, eyes sad.

“Mmm,” Mark hummed. “Jackson put you in the doghouse?”

Jaebeom sighed, “Something like that,”

“Well, you’ll have to sleep on the couch,” Mark beckoned behind him, not eager to relive the other night's interaction.

“That’s fine,” Jaebeom nodded. He looked down towards the canvas grocery bags tucked under Mark's arm. “Where were you off to?”

And Mark was about to answer when the realization sparked. “Actually,” he smirked. “Your timing is pretty impeccable.”

“Why?”

“I need your help with something,” Mark smiled. “Can we take your car?”

\---

A few hours later, Mark was helping chop vegetables while Jaebeom worked at the stove, cooking. “Okay. Spill,” he said, not looking up from the carrot he was finely slicing. “Why are you in the doghouse?”

Jaebeom stirred the pot he had warming up on the stove. “Jackson wants another kid.”

Mark stopped suddenly. “Oh,” he leaned against the counter. “Shit, Jaebeom.”

Jaebeom didn’t stop stirring, eyes defocusing. “Yeah.”

Mark watched him, not sure what to say. “I’m guessing you don’t?”

Jaebeom hesitated. “I’m… not sure. It’s a lot, right? I mean you know how it is,” he shrugged. “It’s like one kid feels impossible for the first few years and then you finally feel like you are getting the hang of it. And then what happens? You get another?”

Mark understood. He fiddled with the knife in his hand. Going quiet. “So, Jackson just kicked you out for the night?”

“There was an argument,” Jaebeom bit at his lips. “Stupid things were said.”

“By?”

He paused. “Mostly me.”

“Mm,” Mark hummed. Thinking, processing. “What does Yugyeom think?”

“We haven’t asked him yet.”

“You probably should,” Mark offered.

“I know,” Jaebeom nodded. “We will.”

Mark went back to cutting up the carrot, trying to think of some words of support he could offer. But also, not feeling like it was his place. “It’s a big decision.”

“I know,” Jaebeom agreed. “Sometimes…” he put the spoon down, stepping back. “I’m not sure he thinks about how big it is. He gets… caught up. Almost nostalgic for all that stuff. The staying up late. The expenses. The bending your life around their every moment. He talks about those things like they are rites of passage. Like it meant he really earned fatherhood, going through all that stuff.”

Mark stopped again, looking at him. “Do you agree?”

Jaebeom was quiet, thinking. “I don’t think it has to be like that.”

“What do you mean?”

He shrugged, “I think you can still be a father. A really good one. Even without experiencing all those parts.” He looked to Mark, not really in that pensive place anymore.

Mark narrowed his eyes, “Is this still about Jackson?”

Jaebeom shrugged a little. “Maybe.”

“What are you trying to say?” Mark folded his arms across his chest, knife hanging from his hand.

Jaebeom smiled. “You like him.”

“Who?”

“Jinyoung.”

Mark tensed. He opened his mouth, quick to defend himself. “He’s okay.”

“The other night-”

“Jaebeom,” Mark stopped him, closing his eyes for a second. “Please. None of that.”

“What?” Jaebeom’s mouth smiled.

Mark groaned, turning back to his task. “He’s an actor. He’s attractive. So what? It doesn’t mean anything.”

“You’re throwing him a whole feast right now,” Jaebeom said, coming closer behind him. “That must mean something?”

“I mean you’re doing most of the cooking,” he muttered.

Jaebeom went quiet until Mark looked back at him, seeing the knowing look on his face.

Mark’s shoulders dropped, frustrated. “What do you want me to say, Jaebeom? What’s your point here?”

Jaebeom’s hands went up, defensively chuckling, “You don’t have to say anything.”

“I’m seeing someone,” Mark said firmly. “Someone who _you_ encouraged me to see by the way,” he pointed the knife in his direction.

Jaebeom returned to his pot, giving it a stir, “I mean that was before I knew how you felt about Jinyoung.”

Mark tossed his knife down onto the counter with a clatter. “Jaebeom, stop,” he said firmly. “I don’t feel anything for him. He’s Sunny’s-” he stopped himself. “You know who he is.”

“So what,” Jaebeom shrugged. “He-”

“Jaebeom,” Mark gritted out. “Enough.”

Jaebeom sighed. “Fine,” he put the spoon down again, backing away. “I’m done with this.”

Mark took a breath, calming down. “Let’s set the table.”

It wasn’t long after they finished setting everything up that the front door was opening. Mark and Jaebeom looking up to see Sunny riding on Jinyoung’s shoulders as they came into the kitchen.

Jinyoung stopped, mouth falling open and eyes going wide as he looked at everything they had laid out on the table. “What…” he put Sunny down, letting her run up to the edge of the table peering up at all of it. “What is all of this?”

Mark came closer to him. “I know you couldn’t be home for Chuseok,” he shrugged. “So Jaebeom helped me bring Chuseok to you.”

“What is this stuff?” Sunny questioned, reaching her finger out to squish a colored rice cake. “What are these?”

Jinyoung smiled at Mark, before pulling up next to Sunny. “Sit down and I’ll tell you,” he said. “And then you can tell your dad about our day.”

\---

It was later that night, after Jaebeom had made a home for himself on the couch and Sunny had gone to sleep. Mark was laying in bed, scrolling through his phone. He heard a knock, assuming it was Jaebeom asking for something.

“Come on in,” Mark called, not looking up.

“Hey.”

Mark looked up, seeing Jinyoung leaned into his bedroom door. 

“You going to bed?” he asked.

Mark stared back, “Yeah.”

Jinyoung came a little further inside. “I just… wanted to say thanks. For dinner.”

“Oh,” Mark shook his head. “Jaebeom did most of the work. I-”

“He said it was your idea though,” Jinyoung stopped him, smiling. “I really appreciate it.”

Mark looked back at him. Taking a breath. “You’re welcome. I’m glad you had fun,” he looked down into his lap, hands absentmindedly flipping his phone. “I think it was good for Sunny, too,” he offered. “Who knows? Maybe it’s something we’ll start doing every year.”

“I’d like that,” he nodded. “For her.”

Mark felt the silence stretch a little too long, knotting him up inside. He licked his lips, “Maybe you could be there, too.”

Jinyoung looked at him, his mouth pulling up into a beaming smile. “I,” he hesitated. “I hope I will be.”

The silence stretched too long again and Jinyoung’s smile fell a little, his mouth opening like he was going to say something.

But before the words could come out, Mark’s phone started to vibrate in his lab. Rattling loudly and disrupting the moment.

Mark grabbed it, looking to the screen. He sighed. Cursing the timing.

“Is that Youngjae?” Jinyoung asked.

Mark looked back to him. “Yeah.”

Jinyoung nodded slowly, “You should probably answer.” He smiled, but it wasn’t that big genuine smile he had just a moment ago. No, now it was forced, pained. “Have a good night, Mark.”

Mark watched him go, phone still vibrating in his hand.

“You too, Jinyoung."


	7. Seven.

Things went on. Days passed by. Routines becoming routine once again. As if every minute deviation from the norms they’d tried so hard to maintain needed the passage of time to recover from. Mark saw Youngjae a couple times during the week, having their laid-back adult sleepovers that lead to little sleep for either of them. And then the weekend came and Jackson and Jaebeom invited both them and Sunny over for dinner. They were finishing up their meal. Youngjae telling a crazy tale from his early days of teaching that had all the adults cracking up.

“He put it where?” Jaebeom gasped for breath.

“That’s absolutely horrific,” Jackson shook his head. “God, kids are monsters.”

“And after that, I made sure to _never_ offer chocolate in the classroom ever again,” he laughed, looking over to Mark and squeezing his hand under the table.

Mark smiled, so delighted by the new life Youngjae had breathed into their group.

“But I love chocolate,” Sunny piped up from her spot down the table next to Yugyeom. Both of them having finished their plates so they were working on a puzzle together.

“Oh, yeah?” Youngjae looked down the table at her cheerfully. “I bet you’ll be getting a lot of chocolate next weekend. I hear there is a very spooky holiday coming up,” his voice went shaky along with his fingers. “Muahaha.”

“Oh, Mr. Choi!” Jackson snapped his fingers. “I wanted to mention this, but you should join us on Halloween. We are going trick-or-treating with the kids.”

Youngjae smiled. “Of course. Yeah. I would love to.”

“Chocolate is my _favorite_ flavor of ice cream,” Sunny butted back into the conversation with little care for what the adults had been saying. She put two puzzle pieces together in her hands. “It’s Jinyoung’s favorite, too.”

Mark seized up at his place on the table, one hand clenching up around his utensil.

“Who’s Jinyoung?” Youngjae asked.

Mark's heart gave an awful thrash in his chest. And suddenly, he was reaching for his drink, parched. “Uh,” he took a greedy sip, mind spinning through possibilities. Feeling the burn of Jackson and Jaebeom’s eyes on him. 

“Sunny is ...learning Korean,” he looked down the table, avoiding Youngjae’s eyes. “Isn’t that right, Sunny?”

“Mhmm,” Sunny didn’t look up, busy. “Jinyoung is teaching me. We’ve had two lessons so far.”

“Oh,” Youngjae perked up. “That’s awesome, Sunny. Maybe we can practice together sometime.”

“Baba,” Yugyeom whined, looking rather defeated by the puzzle before him, no matter how fixated Sunny was. “Can we go play in the backyard now?”

And Mark had never been so thankful for Yugyeom as when he suddenly shifted the attention off of the topic.

Jackson sighed, wiping his face with a napkin. “Give me your plates,” he beckoned. “And then, you both can go.”

Sunny and Yugyeom both rushed to scoot out their chairs, collect their dirty plates, and turn them into Jackson at the other side of the table. 

“Mr. Choi,” Yugyeom whined. “Can you play that game with us? From class? The one with the fox.”

Sunny gasped. “Please, Mr. Choi. It’s my favorite,” she folded her hands together. “Pleasepleaseplease,” she begged. Before Yugyeom joined her, “Pleasepleasepleaseplease.”

Youngjae drew in a breath. “Sure,” he raised his eyebrows, standing. “We can play.”

Mark grabbed his hand, watching him turn back. “You don’t have to,” he murmured. “I know you’re off the clock.”

Youngjae shook his head. “It’s fine, Mark,” he assured him. “Really.” Before following the kids out to the yard, reexplaining the rules as they went.

Mark’s eyes shifted back to those around the table, locking onto Jackson’s impatient stare.

The man raised an eyebrow, “Care to explain?”

Mark sighed, going hot under the intensity of his accusatory eyes.

Jackson leaned his chin onto one hand. “He doesn’t know who Jinyoung is?”

Mark flipped his fork around in his fingers, eyes averting. “I mean it’s kind of a long story. And highly personal.”

“He’s your boyfriend,” Jackson argued.

Mark scoffed. “I really wish you would stop saying that. You know we haven’t had that talk.”

“What about when he goes to your house? Do you stuff Jinyoung in a closet?”

“No,” Mark shook his head. “He hasn’t been over. Not yet.”

“And what about when you go out with him? Who do you say is watching Sunny?”

“I mean…” Mark folded his arms over his chest, feeling defensive. But knowing that there was no suitable defense for the lies he had been telling. “Usually, you guys.”

“And now, by association, we are accomplices in your lies,” Jackson sat back, throwing his hands. “Great, Mark. Truly wonderful.”

“There just...” Mark groaned. “There hasn’t been a right time to explain it to him, okay? But I will.”

Mark looked over to Jaebeom, hoping to have his support. But all he got in return were a set of equally intense eyes. Though Jaebeom wasn’t mad. No, there was some other kind of intensity there. Communicating some shared message.

Jaebeom licked his lips. And when he spoke, his voice was careful, soft. “If there’s something else, Mark,” he suggested. “Some other reason-”

“There isn’t, Jaebeom,” Mark said, firmly. Looking at him and knowing exactly what he was suggesting. The same thing he’d suggested when they cooked at Mark’s house for Chuseok. “So, stop looking for it.”

\---

Mark tried not to think too hard about what had happened at dinner. Tried not to think about Jackson’s words and Jaebeom’s glances. Their judgements that had shaken him whether he wanted to admit it or not.

And the next week, Mark came into the kitchen after dinner. “Hey, Jinyoung?”

Jinyoung was cleaning up, while Sunny was working on something at the kitchen table. He looked up from the countertops he was wiping down. “Wha...” his voice trailed off as his eyes widened.

Mark was holding the pothos plant, it’s leafy vine trailing downwards, along with every other leaf that had suddenly wilted down towards the ground. A few of the leaves turning yellow, hanging on for dear life. Mark saw the look on his face. “Um,” he stammered. “Help?”

Jinyoung rushed forward. “What did you do to it?” he asked, taking the planter in his hands and tending to the plant’s leaves, just to have them snap off between his fingers.

“I don’t know,” Mark’s shoulders went up, defensive. “I went to go water it and it was just like this.”

Jinyoung slowly looked up to him. “You’ve been watering it?”

“Yeah,” Mark nodded. “Everyday. After dinner.”

“I’ve been watering it. Every morning.”

“Oh.”

Jinyoung sighed, taking a moment. “I’ll take it outside and see if the roots haven’t rotted,” he said. “And maybe make a chart. So this doesn’t happen again.”

Mark bit at his lips, watching him sneak out the glass door. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Jinyoung offered. “I’ll report back.” And he shut the glass door behind him.

Mark came closer to his daughter, bracing himself against the table to lean over her, “What’s my Sunny Bunny doing?”

“Drawing,” she said, recapping a green marker and switching it out for an orange one.

“Oh, yeah?” Mark kissed at the side of her head. “What are you drawing?”

Sunny leaned back from her work, showing him the complete width of the paper. “Us.”

Mark looked down. Surprised when he didn’t just see the typical two figures. Not just Sunny with her green and yellow shades and her braids. Or even just Mark with his UCLA gear, typically standing above. But also a third figure. Someone who stood slightly taller than either of them. Someone with black hair and a pointy collared shirt. A big upturned smile and little lines at his eyes.

“Is that…” Mark pointed to the unfamiliar figure. “Is that Jinyoung?”

“Mmhm,” she smiled, looking up at him.

Mark felt a little simmering of nerves. Remembering Sunny’s drawing of her family on the wall of her classroom. Wondering if she had intended to make an updated version. And the thought alone was dizzying. He took a breath, mind sputtering, “Do you want to draw Mr. Choi in there?”

Sunny looked down to the drawing. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Mr. Choi is really fun,” Sunny said. “And he’s really good at reading. And playing with us. But I like Jinyoung better.”

Mark felt those nerves spike again. “And why is that?”

Sunny shrugged, “He just makes you smile special.”

“Smile special?” Mark furrowed his brows.

“Mmhm,” she hummed, grabbing another marker and uncapping it. She started to color. “You have a smile for me and a smile for Uncle Jaebeom and Uncle Jackson and a smile for Grandma. But you don’t have one for Mr. Choi.”

Mark huffed, “But I have one for Jinyoung?”

“Yeah,” Sunny grinned. “A really, really big one.” She pointed down to the drawing. “See?”

And sure enough Sunny had drawn a big spread of boxy looking teeth across Mark’s face. 

“Yeah,” he breathed. “I see.”

\---

It was the weekend, mid-morning, when Sunny came into the kitchen wearing her bathing suit and her sandals and her UCLA cap. She sat herself down at the kitchen table, doing up the velcro straps of her sandals.

Mark looked over from the cup of coffee he was sipping at. “Where are you two heading off to today?” 

Sunny looked up at him, under the low brim of her hat. “Guess.”

“Mmmm,” Mark titled his head. “The mall?” he teased.

“Noooo,” Sunny rolled her eyes.

“The park?”

“Noooo.”

“Oh, right,” Mark nodded. “The lake.”

“Dad,” Sunny groaned. “Not funny.”

Mark laughed, grabbing the seat of her chair and scooching her closer. “I’m kidding,” he hugged her. “You looking forward to your beach day?”

She nodded.

Jinyoung came into the kitchen, a tote over his shoulder with two beach towels sticking out. He was in his swim shorts, the ones he wore during his nightly swims, and, thankfully, a t-shirt. “Ready to go?” he asked.

Sunny rushed up. “Wait!” she pushed her chair in. “Let me grab my goggles.” She ran out, back down the hall towards her room.

Mark watched her go, feeling the small, useless ache of his chest. Residual envy that hadn’t quite learned to quell fully when he watched Jinyoung take her. “Does she have everything she needs?” he asked. “Sunscreen? Her favorite towel? Snacks?”

“Yes, yes,” Jinyoung nodded, reassuring him. “Don’t worry. She helped me pack.” He grabbed a water bottle from the cupboard, going to fill it up. “What are you doing today?”

“I don’t know,” Mark sighed, downing the last little bit of coffee in one gulp. “Maybe I’ll go on a walk? Find a new hobby? I’ll figure out something.” 

Jinyoung leaned up against the kitchen counter. “Do you,” he hesitated, facing going nervous. “Do you want to come with us?”

Mark looked at him. And his first thought was to say no. Because this was Jinyoung and Sunny’s time. Their designated time. And he didn’t want to intrude on that. But the more he looked at Jinyoung’s face and saw the considerable amount of effort it was taking him to work up the confidence to ask, the less he felt the ability to turn his invitation away. 

Not to mention, Mark wanted to.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I would like that.”

\---

Mark sat on his beach towel, baseball cap blocking the sun from his face, while his uncovered shoulders tingled under the rays. Ahead of him, down in the shallow part of the water, just beyond where the waves would draw back in on themselves, he watched as Sunny rode on Jinyoung’s back. Goggles on as he dove under the water, letting both of them resurface. And it left Mark’s chest feeling a little bit more like those crashing waves.

His phone rang at his side. He looked to the screen, smirking before answering. “Hey,” he felt the grit of sand between his fingers and the phone. “What are you doing?” 

“Thinking about you,” Youngjae’s voice crackled a little through the speaker but it still had that lovely, dreamy quality that Mark liked.

He smiled down into the sand, “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Youngjae sighed. “What about you?”

Mark held up his phone in the air for a second before returning it to his ear, “Can you hear it?” 

“The beach?”

“Yeah,” Mark nodded. “Spending the day with Sunny.” 

“Mmm,” Youngjae hummed. “How’s the view?”

Mark looked up, in front of him the ocean laid out in one glittering glass plane. And in it, Jinyoung was dragging Sunny through the waves. Her laughter so loud that Mark wondered if Youngjae could hear it. Mark licked his lips, “The view is beautiful.”

Youngjae’s voice got quiet. “You’re beautiful.”

Mark felt a little warmer under the sun. “Stop,” he huffed, going shy.

“I want you,” Youngjae said. “When can I have you?”

Mark felt that warmth soak deeper. “I could come over tonight,” he suggested. “After Sunny goes to sleep. Spend the morning with you tomorrow.”

“You can try my famous french toast.”

“Famous?” Mark teased. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

Youngjae laughed. “Who is watching Sunny?”

Mark opened his mouth, hesitating. “My mom,” he said. “She’s staying over.” And somewhere deep down he wondered when it would get easier to lie. Before he reluctantly realized it probably already had.

“She knows you are seeing someone?”

Mark looked out, seeing Jinyoung’s black hair whip away from his face as he dodged Sunny’s attempt to splash him. He felt that hand against his neck, the intensity of Jinyoung’s stare. _“Is it your boyfriend?”_

“Mmhm,” he nodded, crossing his arms over his knees.

Youngjae laughed. “I must be kind of a big deal then.”

And even Mark had to crack a smile, because it was a lot easier to dismiss those small moments with Jinyoung when Youngjae was brightly shining in front of him. “Alright, Mr. Big Deal,” he smirked. “I’ll see you later.”

And Mark could envision the gentle smile on Youngjae’s handsome face. “See you, Mark,” he said, before hanging up.

Mark put his phone to the side, looking back up to the water. But Jinyoung and Sunny weren’t in the waves anymore. No, instead they were standing on the wet sand. And Jinyoung was talking to a woman who had, evidently, been running with her dog. Her blonde hair gathered in a ponytail, running shoes and sports bra and shorts against her tan skin. And beside them, Sunny was on her knees, goggles on top of her sopping hair, petting the yellow lab with a wide smile across her face.

Mark looked up to the woman. Her broad smile. The way she leaned in a little too close to Jinyoung’s dripping chest. And Mark wasn’t naive enough to ignore what was going on. He felt sharp pain in his core, stinging instantly, burning white hot. And it was such an unfamiliar feeling that he was struggling to place it.

“Sunny!” he called out, seeing her lift her head. “Come here.”

She gave the dog a final scratch between the ears before she was running back up the sand towards him. “Daddy,” she fell into his arms. “Did you see that dog?”

“Yeah,” Mark clutched her tightly, looking out to where that woman was still talking to Jinyoung. Touching that blonde hair at the end of her ponytail. Jinyoung’s arms crossed over his chest, nodding along to what she was saying.

“He was so nice,” Sunny gushed. “His name was Cooper.”

“That’s nice, sweetie,” Mark murmured, half listening.

She groaned, head falling into Mark’s chest. Her sandy hair sticking to his skin. “I want a puppy.”

“Oh, I know,” Mark sighed, carefully pulling off her goggles and setting them down. Drawing her closer into his arms again, protectively. “You tell me at least once a week.”

“I could take care of it,” she put her sandy hands against his chest, pushing up to look at him. “I take care of Jinyoung’s plants.”

“Plants and dogs are a little bit different,” he said, still watching as Jinyoung pursed his lips, nodding and waving to the woman. Watching her eyes follow him, brows drawn, after his back had already turned, starting to walk back up towards Mark and Sunny.

“You’re right,” Sunny nodded. “Dogs can play. And they can do tricks. They can lick your face. And-”

Mark looked down to her, eyes going wide. “And they can tear up your house. Plants can’t do that,” he teased.

“Daaaad,” she whined. “Please?”

Jinyoung came up to their spot. “Please, what?” he asked. “What are you asking your dad for?”

Mark squinted up at him. Seeing the way he was still glistening from the water. The sun somewhere behind his head, silhouetting him. Mark swallowed.

“Jinyoung,” Sunny turned, looking up at him. “Don’t you think I could take care of a dog?”

“I don’t know. It’s a big job, Sunny,” Jinyoung smirked, laying down on the towel next to Mark's.

“I know,” Sunny agreed. “But I would take care of it super good. Just like you and Daddy take care of me.”

Mark went tense under Sunny. Not for any other reason than the way that Sunny had referenced to them together. In a way that felt too intimate. Too close to a fam-

He looked over to Jinyoung, seeing how his eyes were closed against the sun. And Mark wasn’t sure, but there seemed to be a bit of tension between his shoulders as well.

“You would take care of it well,” Jinyoung nodded, looking over to her and squinting one eye open. “But it’s still a big decision. You know how your daddy got you and it changed his world? It’s the same with a dog.”

“But Daddy picked me,” Sunny argued. “He didn’t make me. Because the people who made me wanted me to have the best Daddy. And I want to be the best Sunny for a puppy who needs a home.”

And now, Mark was sure of that tension between Jinyoung’s shoulders. Mark looked away, afraid of meeting his eyes.

Jinyoung sighed, he sat himself up, facing her. “You’re already the best Sunny for me,” he smiled. “Is that not enough?”

She rolled her eyes, “You’re not a puppy.”

“I can be a puppy.” Jinyoung’s face fell into a pout, whimpering loudly. 

Sunny laughed. “You’re silly,” she pulled herself from Mark’s arms, crashing into Jinyoung and toppling him over. “Silly puppy.”

And not much longer, after their playful scuffle dissolved, Sunny was sleeping against Jinyoung’s chest. His arms wrapped around her.

Mark was lying on his back next to him, every so often turning to look at them, before it would become too much and he would pull away his eyes. He looked over once more, making sure she was out. Before he said the thing that had been weighing on his mind.

He looked up to the sky, closing his eyes. “Don’t let it bother you. What she said. It’s just what the books tell you to say. It’s not-”

“It’s the truth,” Jinyoung stopped him. Something firm in his voice. “I wanted her to have the best dad. And I couldn’t be that.”

Mark sighed. “You’re doing the best you can,” he reassured.

“She told me she loves me last night.”

Mark’s eyes shot open, leaning up on his elbows and looking down at him. “What?”

Jinyoung’s hand smoothed up and down her back, “When I was putting her to bed.”

Mark’s head reeled. A million questions springing up. “What did you say?”

“I didn’t know what to say,” he shrugged, looking down at her. “So I just said thank you.”

“Why?”

Jinyoung was slow to answer, considering. “I’ve been wanting to say it,” he nodded. “I wanted to say it today. When I tell her I’m leaving next week. But I wanted to talk to you about it first. Make sure it was okay.”

Mark was still. “She beat you to it.”

“She did.”

Mark laid down onto his back again, pulling his cap over his eyes. Oscillating between too many thoughts, too many questions. But knowing only one really mattered. He swallowed, voice coming out timid. “Do you love her?”

“Of course.”

“Cause she’s your-” Mark stopped. “You know.”

“No,” Jinyoung said. “Cause she’s perfect. Despite me.”

Mark went quiet. Unsure of what to say. Because, of course, Sunny was perfect. Sunny had been perfect since the day she came into this world, long before Jinyoung had come into Mark’s life. But also, Mark couldn’t help but think that Jinyoung had always been there. A part of Sunny. And maybe the ways it manifested were small. So small that Mark could easily look past them when he wanted to deny it. But they were still there. 

Jinyoung turned towards him.

And Mark looked too, only now seeing how close they were. Nearly brushing bare tanned shoulders. 

“What are you thinking about?” Jinyoung asked. And the way the sound moved in the space between them made it feel that much closer.

And Mark looked into his eyes. Curious and wide as they studied his face. The same ones he had seen in Sunny all those years ago. The closest thing to love at first sight he’d ever known. But he was having this aching realization that they weren’t Sunny’s eyes first. But instead, they had belonged to Jinyoung.

And maybe, when he held Sunny for the first time, when he so readily surrendered his heart to her and those eyes, maybe in a way he couldn’t explain, he did the same for Jinyoung.

Jinyoung smiled. “What is it?” he whispered.

_You’re perfect too._

Mark didn’t say it. But maybe something in his face had said something, because before he could fumble for a suitable reply, Jinyoung’s smile eased. Like he understood.

Jinyoung took a deep breath. “We should probably be heading back,” he offered. “Let her sleep in the car.”

So they drove home. Not speaking, just existing in that comfortable silence as Sunny dozed in her car seat. And Mark, who typically wouldn’t have let it go, stopped trying to figure out why it didn’t feel awkward at all.

Later that night, he stood in the hallway outside Sunny’s bedroom, straining his ears to try and hear.

“Sunny,” Jinyoung said. “You know how your daddy works?”

“Mhmm.”

“Well, I work too. But I work in Korea.”

Sunny was quiet for a beat too long. Already catching on. “That’s far away.”

“It is.” Jinyoung said, surely. “So on Friday, I am going to take a plane and go back for a little while. To do some work.”

“You’re leaving?” she asked, softly.

“Just for a few weeks,” Jinyoung reassured her. “And then I’ll be back before you know it.”

More quiet. “What about my Korean lessons?”

“I talked to Uncle Jaebeom. He is going to come over twice a week and do them with you and Yugyeom together. That sounds fun, right?”

Less quiet this time. “What about our adventures?”

Jinyoung laughed. But it was sad, longing. “We can have as many adventures as you want when I get back. I promise.”

And so much silence passed, that Mark’s emotions rose too high, silently coming closer until he could see through the small crack left in the door. Sunny’s face was buried in Jinyoung’s shoulder.

“I don’t want you to go,” she said, voice muffled.

“I don’t want to either,” he whispered, hand brushing down her hair. “But…” his back widened with a breath. “I love you. And I’ll be thinking of you every moment until I come back.” He drew back from her, looking into her face. “Okay?”

Sunny blinked up at him. “I love you, too.”

Mark’s chest ached. But not with that stab of envy. Something entirely unlike envy. And he couldn’t see Jinyoung’s face but based on the small scratchiness of his throat when he spoke next, he wouldn’t have doubted that he was tearing up.

“Good,” he said. “Cause I need someone to take care of the plants while I am away. And you know that your dad can’t do it.”

Sunny smiled, against her will.

Jinyoung sighed. “Come here.” And he hugged her tightly. “I’ll miss you.”

And Mark felt the sting of his own eyes watering. Hand going up to his mouth as he tried to hold his breath. Scared of making a sound. His heartbeat roaring in his ears so loud that he nearly missed the hushed whisper of Jinyoung’s next words. Nearly.

“I’ll miss you so much, Haeseon.”

“I’ll miss you too, Jinyoung.”

The tears broke down his face and Mark hurriedly wiped them up as he crept away. And after he got up to his room, after he finished drying his eyes and calming the ache in his chest, he pulled out his phone. Sending off a message.

_Youngjae. I’m sorry. Something came up._

\---

Mark and Youngjae ended up arriving at Jackson and Jaebeom’s house at the same time, parking next to each other in the driveway.

“Hey, Sunny,” Youngjae called when he got out, widening his arms. “Guess what I am?”

Sunny got out of the car. She herself wearing a green shirt and green pants. A crocodile mask under her arm. She looked at her teacher’s red and white striped shirt, his white and red beanie, his round glasses. “Santa’s elf?” she guessed.

“No,” he shook his head. “I’m Waldo!”

Sunny looked back to her dad, “Dad,” she whispered. “Who’s Waldo?”

Youngjae’s shoulders fell. He sighed, “Kids these days.”

Mark laughed, ducking down to his daughter’s height. “Sunny,” he said. “Waldo is a very handsome and very nice man.”

“Oh,” Sunny perked. “Like Mr. Choi then.”

Mark looked up, seeing the smirk spread across Youngjae’s face. “Like Mr. Choi,” he agreed. He let Sunny run up towards the front door. “Hey,” he smiled as he reached out to grab Youngjae’s hand. “Are you ready for a night of running into every student you’ve ever taught?”

Youngjae intertwined their fingers, walking up towards the door together. “Actually, I’m kind of looking forward to it,” he shrugged. “But I’ll admit. I’m a bit disappointed that you didn’t dress up.”

Mark muttered near his ear, “I offered to do a daddy daughter costume with Sunny, but she was really dead set on this crocodile thing.”

“Trick or treat!” Sunny screamed as she rang the doorbell, sliding the mask over her head.

There was a scamper of feet before Yugyeom was pulling open the front door. “Sunny! You are here!”

“Hey, Yugyeom,” she rushed forward to hug him. “Wait. Did you get the lasso?”

“Baba said no,” Yugyeom said, defeated, as he reached into the pocket of his khaki shorts. “But Appa did let me borrow his shoelace.” And sure enough, he procured a white lace, holding it up.

Sunny nodded, “We can work with that.”

Mark tilted his head, “Yugyeom, what are you dressed as?”

Yugyeom’s eyes went twice as big. “You can’t tell?”

Mark looked at his khaki button down shirt. His khaki shorts. “Are you a UPS driver?”

Youngjae elbowed his ribs. “Mark,” he said, feigning a groan. “He’s _obviously_ Steve Irwin, the Crocodile Hunter,” he winked. “It looks great, Yugyeom!” He offered him a high five which the boy readily jumped up to take, a smile back on his face.

Mark rolled his eyes. “Oh yes, of course,” he opened the door a little wider, ushering everyone in. “Yugyeom. Go find your Appa and Baba. Tell them they are late.”

“Can I go with him?” Sunny asked.

“Yup,” Mark nodded, watching them run off together. He turned to Youngjae. “So, that’s why she wanted to be a crocodile? I thought it was because my mother suggested she be Tinkerbell from Peter Pan.”

“Don’t feel bad,” he shrugged. “I only know because they’ve been talking about it all week in class.”

“Cheater,” Mark laughed.

“Hey,” Youngjae reached out, putting a hand to Mark’s hip. “I wanted to ask, what happened the other night? I know you said something came up...”

Mark remembered. Calling off his plans with Youngjae after the emotions of the beach day had drained him just as much as the sun had. “Yeah,” he looked down. “I’m really sorry. My mom couldn’t take care of Sunny that night. Because she… is sick.”

“Oh no,” Youngjae’s eyes went concerned. “Is she okay?”

Mark nodded, “Yeah. She’s already feeling better.”

“Well,” Youngjae drew him a little closer, pushing a stray bit of hair from his face. “For what it’s worth, I missed you.”

Mark smiled. “Really?”

“Yeah. Why you didn’t miss me?”

And Mark couldn’t explain why he hesitated. And then why he felt guilty for hesitating. Why the guilt and the hesitancy fed into this endless loop that he was struggling to break free from. But when he did, it was with another lie. “I mean... I was pretty busy. With you know. My mom.”

Youngjae’s eyes deepened, going worried. “Right,” he said, closing his eyes and starting to stumble over his words. “I’m sorry. That was stupid of me.”

“No,” Mark shook his head. “You’re fine. It’s fine.”

Youngjae’s worry didn’t leave. He bit his lips. “Mark,” he started. “Is something-”

“Okay!” Jackson’s voice echoed. “Who is ready for some trick-or-treating!” he came out, spinning to show off his Gryffindor robes.

“Me, me, me, me,” Sunny and Yugyeom followed after him, grabbing onto either side of his cloak.

“Are you both ready?” Jackson looked up at the two adults.

Youngjae pulled away from Mark, nodding. “Yeah,” he breathed. “We are ready.”

\---

They went from house to house, taking turns with escorting the kids up to the door and asking for treats. And at one particular house, Mark and Jaebeom stood back on the sidewalk, letting Jackson and Youngjae take the kids up to the front door.

“Guess what happened today?” Jaebeom said, adjusting his Hufflepuff cloak on his shoulders.

Mark watched how Youngjae crouched behind Sunny, encouraging her to get a treat from the stranger’s hands. “What?”

Jaebeom took a deep breath, a small smile pulling at his mouth. “We found a kid.”

“What?” Mark spun towards him. “No way.”

“Mmhm,” Jaebeom hummed.

“So,” Mark crossed his arms over his chest. “Jackson finally wore you down?”

“Not exactly,” Jaebeom shook his head. “An opportunity came up. And it allowed us to compromise.”

“Compromise how?”

“We were talking to some people. Mutual friends through our agency,” he shrugged. “They told us about a kid who is in foster care right now. They’ve been trying to find a home for a few years. But the right family hasn’t stepped forward.”

“How old?” Mark questioned.

“Six. Same as Yugyeom.”

“Wow,” Mark’s eyes widened. “Have you told him?”

Jaebeom’s smile grew wider. “We are telling him tomorrow.”

“What do you think he’ll say?”

“Knowing him?” he asked, both of them watching Yugyeom carefully sort through the stranger’s candy selection. “Probably cry. Think it means he won’t be the baby anymore.”

“Yugyeom,” Mark sighed, smiling. “A gentle soul.”

“Like his Baba,” Jaebeom huffed. 

“And his Appa,” Mark laughed, knocking Jaebeom’s shoulder with his. 

“Yeah, whatever,” Jaebeom smiled. “But I think after that fades away, he’ll be excited.”

“I think so too,” Mark nodded. “I know Sunny will be.”

Jaebeom sighed happily. “And if all goes smoothly, we should have him next month.”

“You seem excited,” Mark noted, feeling like this was a totally different Jaebeom than he’d seen in his kitchen.

“I am excited,” Jaebeom agreed. “You know, I wasn’t sure how we were going to be able to reach a decision. But the opportunity just fell into our laps. It’s perfect. _He’s_ going to be perfect.”

“I’m sure he will be,” Mark agreed, distantly wishing his problems were seemingly that easy to solve.

\---

The flight Jinyoung had booked was a red eye across the Pacific. And the night he was leaving, he said his goodbyes to Sunny before she went to sleep. Mark didn’t listen this time, not sure he could trust himself to do so without feeling too much.

But regardless, when he tried to go to sleep that night, he found himself staring at the wall for too many hours. And at some point, he started to hear Jinyoung get up, go downstairs, get ready to leave.

Mark got out of bed, not trying to talk himself out of it as he followed. The house was dark. And Jinyoung was standing near the front door. His bags ready. His shoes on. His wool coat folded over his arm as he looked down into his phone.

And it was so quiet already, that Mark’s words came out quiet too. “You got everything?” he asked, wrapping his arms tight around himself.

Jinyoung looked up. His eyes widening. “What are you doing up?”

Mark shrugged, coming closer. Leaning into the wall of the entryway. “Just wanted to wish you off.”

Jinyoung looked at him, drawing in a breath. “Yeah,” he nodded. “I got everything. I just ordered a car.”

Mark swallowed. “It’s going to be a long flight.”

Jinyoung’s eyes didn’t stray from his face. “I’m sure it will feel even longer,” he said. “Knowing what I’m leaving behind.”

Mark knew he was talking about Sunny. But there was an ambiguity there too. And even though part of him wanted the clarification, he didn’t ask for it. Perhaps because he was afraid of the answer. He bit his lips. “Three weeks then?”

“Three weeks.”

Mark felt himself flutter with nerves, repositioning himself against the wall. “I know you’ll be busy with work,” he asked, averting his eyes to the ground. “But maybe. I-We could… call you. If you want. Sunny and I. Maybe we can figure out a time that works well for all of us.” He looked back up.

Jinyoung blinked away whatever thought he had been having. “That would be nice.”

There is a flash of light through the glass in the front door, the unmistakable gleam of headlights in the driveway.

Mark’s chest sank. “Well,” he sighed. “That’s your ride.” 

Jinyoung didn’t turn his gaze. He just continued to stay transfixed on Mark, studying him in that way that still made him feel like Jinyoung could see everything he was thinking. But maybe part of him wasn’t trying as hard to hide from it now.

“Stay safe, Jinyoung,” Mark offered. “I’ll see you when you get back.” And he took his last look before he started to turn away.

“Hey,” Jinyoung stopped him.

Mark looked back. 

Jinyoung licked his lips. “I’ll miss… everything.”

Mark tilted his head. “Everything?” he questioned.

“Yeah,” Jinyoung’s eyes pleaded. “You know.”

Mark’s chest held a breath too long. Feeling the ache it elicited, too similar to the one left by those tears he’d shed the other night. He tried to hold himself firm.

“Everything will miss you, too.”


	8. Eight.

Mark didn’t fall back asleep after Jinyoung left. Instead, he sat out by the pool, watching the sun come up. Thinking. And thinking. And when the sky started to go lilac as dawn approached, Sunny slid open the glass door, leaning against the doorway and rubbing her eyes.

“Daddy is awake?” she yawned.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Come here, baby.”

And she crawled up into his lap, laying her head against his shoulder.

“Did Jinyoung leave?” she asked, still so sleepy. Closing her eyes and burying into him.

“Yeah,” he said, holding her a little tighter as he stared up into the sky. “He left.”

Sunny frowned, pulling back to study his face. “Daddy is sad.”

Mark distantly wondered if he was that easy for her to read. Or was he just feeling too much? Having kept everything so desperately contained, trying to hide it, for so many weeks that he was now just letting everything seep out. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Daddy is sad.”

“I’m sad, too,” Sunny said. “But he will come back.”

“I know.” But even Jinyoung’s return felt like something so distant and undefined. Because yes, he was coming back, but why? What goal were they even working towards anymore? And, most importantly, when would it be over?

Mark wasn’t able to fall too deeply into that thought though before Sunny was squirming from between his arms, trying to put her feet back on the ground.

“Where are you going?” he asked, letting her go.

“Daddy, come on,” she extended her hand toward him. “Let’s go make breakfast.”

And he looked at her, seeing how she was trying to cheer him up. A mimic of Mark’s behavior with Jinyoung’s features. And it was bittersweet, if anything, to acknowledge that Jinyoung wasn’t there. But that in a way, he was standing right in front of him. That Sunny had always been this little piece of him that was with him. Just as eager to love and be loved as ever. He took in a deep breath. “Okay,” he nodded, taking her hand. “Breakfast.”

It wasn’t until about noon that his phone dinged. And as he reached for it on the coffee table while him and Sunny were watching tv, he calculated the potential for Jinyoung’s flight to have arrived. For him to be messaging that he made it safely. But he should have known it was too early for that. Because when he looked, he saw it was Youngjae.

_Do you have some time to meet today?_

And Mark thought. Knowing he wasn’t in the mood to do anything but spend time with Sunny, but still feeling the residual guilt of canceling their plans the other week. He typed, wondering if Jackson and Jaebeom might be busy.

_Yeah, why? Is something wrong?_

The flash of the ellipses came and went three times.

_I wanted to talk about something._

Mark wasn’t sure what he could mean. Instantly thinking that Youngjae was going through something and needed support. And surely, he had been there for Mark in the past, so he had no issue offering that.

So later in the afternoon, he dropped Sunny off at Yugyeom’s house, not getting out of the car. Not wanting to face his dads’ insistence right now. And then he drove to Youngjae’s house, about to park when his phone dinged again.

_I’ll come out._

And Youngjae did, looking as refreshingly handsome as ever as he got into the car, sitting in the passenger seat.

“Hey,” Mark spoke softly, smiling and reaching out to touch his leg. “What’s up?”

The man’s face didn’t give anything away. Something so distant and placid about it that Mark hadn’t seen before. “You tell me.” 

Mark’s hand drew back. Eyebrows tightening, confused.

Youngjae sighed. “I...” he started, eyes averting. “I went to your house yesterday.”

“What?” Mark’s face just went more confused. “Why?”

Youngjae shrugged. “I was going to drop off flowers for your mom, because you said she had been sick,” he bit into his cheek. “But instead of you. Some guy answered the door.”

Mark confusion dropped. “Oh,” he blinked. Seeing exactly why Youngjae would have called him here like this. Chest sinking at the thought of Jinyoung.

“Yeah,” Youngjae’s mouth went flat. “So, I just told him I had the wrong house. But I didn’t, did I?”

Mark had nowhere to run, nor did he have the will to anymore. “Youngjae,” he looked up at him. “I’m sorry.”

Youngjae didn’t soften. “So, what?” his voice went smaller, brows furrowing together. “Is he your boyfriend? Husband?”

Mark felt the rise of panic in him. “No,” he shook his head, taking a breath to quell the feeling. “No, nothing like that.”

“He was in his pajamas, Mark. He obviously lives with you,” Youngjae went firmer. Getting frustrated. “Come on. Just be honest with me.”

Mark sighed. “That’s Jinyoung.”

Youngjae’s face went confused. “Sunny’s Korean teacher?”

“Yeah.” Knowing there was more to it than that but having to work himself up to fully explain.

“But,” Youngjae shook his head. “Why does he look so familiar?”

Mark considered. “Well, I mean. There is more than one possible answer.”

Youngjae looked at him. Not understanding.

Mark sighed. “He’s an actor,” he admitted. “In Korea.”

“Jinyoung,” Youngjae said his name again, like he was trying to place him. He looked back to Mark. “Wait, like Park Jinyoung?”

And Mark had a moment where he had to realize that he’d never get used to that part. Because Jinyoung’s fame was never relevant to the way he saw him. “Do you know him?”

Youngjae nodded. “I know his name, but I wouldn’t have recognized him.” He shifted in his seat. “But that makes no sense. Why would an actor be living in your house and teaching Sunny Korean?”

Mark hated this part. He didn’t want to say it. But he’d been lying for so long that he knew it was time to come clean. “He’s Sunny’s birth dad.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” Mark rubbed his face, hands settling on the back of his neck. “He was staying with us for a few weeks. Getting to know her a bit more.”

“You told me-”

“I know,” he said, closing his eyes for a moment. “I know. I just… didn’t know how to talk about it.”

Youngjae went more quiet. “You didn’t have to lie.”

“I know,” Mark agreed, looking over to him. “I’m sorry. It was perhaps wishful thinking on my part.”

“Why is that?”

“I don’t know,” Mark said, thinking for a long while. “I just didn’t want to admit who he was,” he shook his head. “I wanted to affirm that I am Sunny’s only father. But I was being childish, shortsighted.”

“You were scared,” Youngjae said, simply. “That’s understandable.” 

“I was,” Mark nodded, looking down into his hands. “It felt like he just showed up on my doorstep a few months ago and, ever since, things have been more complicated than I could have ever expected.”

Youngjae was quiet, for so long that Mark looked over at him, seeing the sadness in his usually bright eyes. “Too complicated for a relationship?”

Mark considered, not liking the answer he came up with. “Probably.”

Youngjae exhaled, ragged and tired. 

“It’s just,” Mark felt the guilt creep in, trying to fumble for the words. “There’s a lot of things going on right now. And my biggest priority needs to be figuring it all out. For Sunny’s sake.”

“I understand.”

“You’re mad.”

“I’m not,” Youngjae shook his head. “I’m disappointed. Sure. But there’s no point in being mad. I knew getting into this that your main priority would always be Sunny. Understandably so.”

“So,” Mark tilted his head. “You won’t flunk her out of first grade?”

Youngjae huffed, just enough of a taste of that bright and beautiful laugh that it made Mark’s mouth draw up immediately at the corners. “No,” Youngjae shook his head. “I suppose I won’t.” 

Youngjae, being a teacher, believed that hugging it out was the perfect way to end their talk. To say their goodbyes. Youngjae sincerely wished him well in figuring out whatever he needed to. And Mark did the same for him. And it wasn’t fun, but it wasn’t hostile or awkward either. In fact it felt nice to hug him, this person that had become familiar in a way no one else had for many years. But despite that it felt like the right decision when Mark pulled out of the parking lot, watching Youngjae smile and wave from the curb before going back inside.

And he drove home, reflecting on the fact that he’d never had a break up like that before. And it soothed something in him, to know that it didn’t always have to end in a dumpster fire. But that at the end of the day, two people could both be adults who wanted the best for each other. Even if it wasn’t each other.

And he didn’t stop thinking about that for a long time.

\---

Mark wasn’t willing to admit how different the house felt without Jinyoung there. How he accidentally made double the amount of coffee the first few days before he’d remember. How setting two places at the table for dinner just didn’t feel like enough anymore. How he watched Sunny water the plants, gently humming while she did it.

“When Jinyoung comes back,” Sunny would say. “We can go to a museum together.” “We can go get sushi together.” “We can take him to Disneyland.”

Mark would just nod. “Sounds great, baby.” But he’d be looking off, unable to stop focusing on the fact that Jinyoung wasn’t there right then.

He was glad to get a break from the lonely, quiet house when Jaebeom and Jackson invited him and Sunny over to celebrate Yugyeom’s birthday. Balloons tied to their mailbox as they walked up, each of them carrying a present.

“Hello!” Jackson said, opening the door wide. “Welcome. Come in.”

And they came inside, standing in the foyer. “We brought two gifts like you said,” Mark held one up. “Why two this year?”

“Well,” Jackson smiled, eyes going bright. “We aren’t just celebrating Yugyeom’s birthday this year.”

Mark stopped. His eyes going wide. “He’s here?”

“Yup,” Jackson nodded.

Mark furrowed his brows. “And you guys made Yugyeom share his birthday?”

“It was Yugyeom’s idea actually,” Jackson noted. “We told him he could invite his classmates but he said he wanted something small. Celebrating both of them.”

“Wow,” Mark melted thinking about it. “Sweet kid.”

“Where’s Yugyeom?” Sunny asked, handing her present to Jackson.

Jackson smiled at her, tucking it under his arm. “Him and his new friend are playing outside. Do you want to go see them?”

“New friend?” Sunny’s face pulled up confused before she gasped. “His new brother?”

Jackson laughed. “Yup. Come on.” And they followed Jackson to the deck where Jaebeom was cooking. 

“Sunny!” Yugyeom shouted from the lawn. He was playing with a smaller boy. Cropped black hair and sweet round eyes. Yugyeom grabbed his hand, pulling him up towards the deck. “Bambam!” he said excitedly. “This is Sunny. This is who I told you about. My best friend. And her dad.”

“Hello,” Mark bent down towards him, voice going soft. Not wanting to overwhelm him. “What’s your name?”

The boy smiled. “Bambam,” he said confidently.

“Nice to meet you, Bambam. I’m Mark,” he held out his hand for a high five which the boy eagerly took.

“And I’m Sunny,” she stepped closer. “So, you are Yugyeom’s new brother?”

“Yep,” Yugyeom smiled, proudly. “He’s going to start school with us on Monday, too!”

Mark gasped. “That’s so cool,” he smiled. “Are you excited, Bambam?”

The boy nodded. “I’m very excited. I hear Mr. Choi is the best teacher ever.”

“Yup,” Sunny agreed, turning to her father. “Dad? Isn’t he great?”

Mark felt Jackson and Jaebeom’s eyes on him, suddenly a bit nervous. “Y-yeah,” he stammered, voice going stale before he recovered with a smile. “Mr. Choi is really great. You’re going to have so much fun with him.” He looked up, confirming that the two dads were indeed watching him. Both of their faces pulled tight. 

“Sunny,” Yugyeom grabbed her hand with his free one. “Let’s play. We were about to start a new game.”

Mark watched them run off down the steps. He stood slowly. Not wanting to face what was behind him.

“What was that about?” Jackson’s voice cut through first, something abrasive in it.

“What?” Mark turned back, eyes going wide. Playing dumb to give himself more time.

Jackson’s face fell even flatter. “The Mr. Choi thing. Why did you get weird about it?”

And he knew he had to tell them. “Youngjae and I stopped seeing each other.”

Jackson’s eyes went wide. “What?” 

“Are you okay?” Jaebeom asked, forsaking what he was grilling.

“I’m fine,” Mark waved them away, taking a seat at the table. “It was amicable.”

Jackson sat down across from him eagerly. “What happened?”

Mark sighed. “It’s a long story. But,” he bit his lips. “I told him about Jinyoung. And it was just clear that I can’t commit to anything right now. Not with all the stuff going on at my house.”

Jackson’s shoulders sank. “I’m sorry, Mark,” he said, softer. He reached out, touching his arm. “Let us know if you need anything.”

“I’m fine,” Mark shook his head. “Really.” And he looked up, seeing Jaebeom’s skeptical eyebrows raise as they turned back towards the grill.

But it wasn’t until Jackson was cutting the cake that Jaebeom managed to corner him. Taking a seat and leaning in.

“How’s it going?” Mark tried to distract him before he began. “With Bambam.”

Jaebeom paused, looking down the table at his sons. “Surprisingly well,” he said. “I think we were a little nervous. Because he’s not a baby and he’s been moved around a bit. We were worried he’d be timid. That this all would be a lot for him to take in.” He watched the way Bam was laughing at Sunny smearing frosting on Yugyeom’s nose. “But he’s great. He and Yugyeom took to each other immediately. He’s just… easy. We didn’t expect that.”

“That must feel good,” Mark smiled. “After all the worrying you did.”

“Of course,” Jaebeom laughed. “We’ve only had him for a week and already it just kind of feels like this is the way it was supposed to be. You know?”

Something in Mark ached. “Yeah,” he thought, looking off for a moment. “Yeah. I know.” When he refocused, Jaebeom’s smirk was pulled up on one side. “What?”

“So,” he started. “How’s Jinyoung?”

Mark huffed. “Why do you assume we keep in touch?”

Jaebeom went silent. Looking at him knowingly.

Mark’s tongue pushed into his cheek. “He’s fine,” he said. “We are going to call him tomorrow. Sunny is looking forward to it.”

Jaebeom leaned a little more forward. “Is Sunny the only one looking forward to it?”

“Don’t start,” Mark rolled his eyes, leaning away from him. “I just got out of a relationship.”

“And are you telling me Jinyoung had nothing to do with that?”

Mark’s mouth went into a thin line. “Not in the way you are suggesting.”

Jaebeom raised an eyebrow.

Mark groaned. “You’re exhausting.”

“I’m exhausting?” Jaebeom laughed. “You’re-”

“Both of you,” Jackson called from down the table, pushing plates toward them. “Stop harassing each other and take a piece of cake.”

\---

“Jinyoung!” Sunny shouted in Mark’s ear as soon as the man appeared on the screen.

“Ow,” Mark groaned. “Come on,” he moved her into his lap, settling her down. “Say hi,” he waved.

“Hiiiiii,” she waved into the camera.

Jinyoung laughed. Smiling so bright at the sight of her. “Hello.”

“What time is it there?”

“It’s about eight. I just woke up,” Jinyoung had his phone propped up as he sat at a table, lifting up a mug to sip. “I got to get ready and head to set soon.”

“But it’s almost dinner here,” Sunny said.

“Yes, baby,” Mark said. “Korea has a different time.”

“Oh,” she looked to Jinyoung. “How is Korea?”

“It’s getting cold here,” Jinyoung mocked rubbing at his sweatered arms. “Not warm like Los Angeles. And the leaves are all different colors outside. See.” He flipped his camera, showing outside his window. The busy street framed in a few multicolored trees.

“Pretty,” Sunny breathed. “We made something like that for school. For Thanksgiving.”

“Oh, really?”

“Mmhm,” Sunny nodded, eagerly. “Wait, I’ll get it and show you,” she started to pull away from Mark. “One second!” she called, running from the room. “Just wait here.”

And then Mark and Jinyoung were left alone. Staring at each other like they didn’t know what to say.

Jinyoung licked his lips. “Show me the plants.”

Mark rolled his eyes. “Jinyoung,” he laughed.

He leaned onto one hand. “You can’t be trusted. Come on. Go into my room.” 

And something about Jinyoung saying _my room_ made Mark feel warmer. “Fine,” he sighed, getting up and carrying the phone into the other room. He grabbed the small plant on the dresser, holding it up next to his face. “See? Not dead.”

Jinyoung smiled, brightly. “Have you been singing to them?” 

“Why would I?” Mark scoffed, going to lay down on the bed.

Jinyoung’s face was lit so well by the sun coming in from the window. That hint of a lingering tan against his skin from their beach day. He shrugged. “It helps.” 

“Them or me?” 

Jinyoung smiled. “Both.” 

Mark took in a deep breath, his voice getting serious. “How are you doing? Really.”

Jinyoung’s smile dulled. He nodded. “I’m getting by.”

“Is it hard? Not being here?”

Jinyoung looked away, “Yeah.”

Mark felt a tugging of his heart. “Sunny misses you,” he offered. “I swear she has a countdown going for you getting back.”

Jinyoung looked up at him. His eyes so round and warm in that morning light. “What about you?”

Mark blinked. “What about me?”

“I got it! I got it!” Sunny screamed as she ran down the hall into the room, carrying her craft from class in her hands. She climbed up onto Mark, leaning in close to the phone to show off her painting. “See look! Just like your trees in Korea!”

Jinyoung switched immediately, brightening back up from that seriousness he held just a moment ago. “Wow,” he said. “It looks amazing, Sunny.”

And Mark knew that whatever Jinyoung had meant, he wasn’t going to find out. But if that night, after Sunny went to bed, he found himself going into Jinyoung’s room and singing softly for the peace lily on the dresser, well. No one had to find out about that either.

\---

It had been awhile since he had gotten to see his family but he couldn’t deny them Thanksgiving. His mother inviting all the relatives over and cooking a massive buffet of food. A mix of everything that had all of them salivating as they overfilled their plates and took a seat around the table.

“Take more,” his mom encouraged Sunny, putting another piece of meat from her plate onto Sunny’s kids plate. Speaking over the roar of the chatter and laughter. “You need it more than Grandma does.”

“No,” Sunny whined. “Grandma needs it too.” She tried to push it back.

Mark spoke up from beside her. “Why don’t both of you split it?”

His mother looked at Sunny, gauging her reaction.

Sunny nodded, “Deal.”

Mark’s mom smiled at him before she started cutting it up. “So, Sunny. Tell Grandma what you’ve been learning in school.”

“Well,” Sunny swallowed a bite of food. “We’ve been learning about the moon.”

“Really?” she gasped. “Tell me what you learned.”

“The moon isn’t a planet. It’s just a moon,” she said. She turned to Mark. “Remind me to tell Jinyoung that next time he calls. He always said the moon was his favorite planet. But that’s not right.”

Mark froze up immediately around his utensils.

His mother put the food onto Sunny’s plate, passively. Looking up to him. “Who is Jinyoung?”

Mark looked to her, mouth falling open. Unable to make words come out.

Sunny spoke up first. “He’s Daddy’s friend. He was staying with us. He’s gone right now but he’ll be coming back in a few days.”

Mark’s mother blinked, like she was adding it up. She stared at her son. Eyebrows drawing together. Switching at the drop of a hat into Mandarin. “Have you been seeing someone?”

The table seemed to simmer before the fringe conversations died down to nothing. A dozen sets of eyes on Mark. And he wanted to dig himself a hole and escape but there was nowhere to run to. He felt himself flush warm, up his neck and ears.

“Mark,” his mother warned, tilting her head.

And Mark didn’t know what to say. Because he wasn’t ready to speak so openly about why Jinyoung had been staying with them, knowing the drama and the worry that would ensue. And he knew he couldn’t bear trying to answer their questions when he himself didn’t have the answers. His swallowed, mouth dry. “Yeah,” he replied softly, matching her language. “I’m seeing someone.”

The table stayed quiet. Glued to the conversation.

Mark’s mother glared. “That’s why you’ve been so distant lately.”

Mark reached out, taking a sip of wine. Desperate for something harder. “Yeah,” he nodded. “I just… wasn’t sure how to tell you.”

“You should meet Jinyoung, Grandma,” Sunny piped up in English, talking around another bite of food. Her Mandarin not fluent enough to keep up. “He’s the best. He’s funny and he’s nice and he’s really good with plants.”

But Mark’s mom was barely listening, instead focused on Mark.

“Sunny,” Mark reached out, touching her shoulder. “Maybe another time. Why don’t you tell us something else about the moon?”

Sunny opened her mouth, about to speak, but Mark’s mom spoke up again. “No, Sunny,” she replied. “I think that’s a great idea. I would love to meet him.”

Mark felt that flush rise a little higher, taking a bigger sip of that wine. “Mom,” he sighed, under his breath. “Please. Can we discuss this another time? It’s a holiday.”

She took a deep breath, letting it go. Even if a trace of that smugness was still across her face. “Alright, Sunny. Another moon fact. Let’s hear it.”

\---

“He’s here!” Sunny shouted from her place, pressed up against the glass of the front window. “Dad! He’s here! He’s here! He’s-”

“I heard you the first time!” Mark called as he came down the stairs, having just changed the sheets in the guest bedroom.

“His taxi just pulled up,” Sunny ran around him, skirting towards the front door. 

“Wait a second, Sun-”

But it was too late as she threw open the door and ran out into the driveway. Mark heard her cheer, “Jinyoung!”

And Mark hadn’t felt nervous until that moment. His stomach tightened together, tangling itself for no other reason than… Wait. What was the reason?

“You see, Dad wanted to go out for dinner and get Indian food and I said I wanted to get sushi, but then he said that we should let you pick since you are coming home. So then I told him-”

Mark heard Sunny’s delighted babble, raising his eyes to the doorway. And he was there, closing the front door behind him and holding Sunny on his hip while she talked. A backpack on his shoulder and his other hand rolling a piece of luggage behind him. And Mark didn’t know what to feel when he saw that the bag was larger than the one he’d brought previously.

His eyes snaked back up, seeing the shorter crop of his hair than last time. The smile against his handsome features. Eyes transfixed on Sunny. Smile all the way up to his eyes as he listened to her. But then he looked over to Mark, stopping where he stood. 

And all those knots in Mark’s stomach felt like they were being strummed like some kind of instrument. And he wondered what the song would sound like.

“Hey,” Mark said.

Jinyoung put Sunny down, smile softening. “Hey.”

Mark held his hands wide, beckoning around him. “Welcome back. We’re glad to have you.”

Jinyoung huffed, beaming. “I’m glad to be here.” 

“Are you listening to me?” Sunny asked from below.

“Of course,” Jinyoung refocused on her. “But don’t you want to open your presents?”

Sunny gasped. “Presents?” she grabbed the leg of his pants. “Yes, please!”

“Okay, come on. Let’s sit down then,” Jinyoung motioned. Following her with his suitcase. All three of them sitting down on the couch. “Okay,” he leaned over, unzipping his bag. “Sunny, first.”

Sunny sat a little closer to him, sealing their sides together.

“First,” he said, procuring a white plastic bag. “I have some of my favorite snacks.”

Sunny took the bag, looking inside. “Wow. This is a lot.”

Jinyoung smiled, “I wanted you to try a lot and see what you like. These are all things I ate when I was your age.” He dove his hand around in the bag, pulling out random snacks. “My mom used to buy me these if I got a good report card. And I used to eat these when I would go to the convenience store with my friends. And-” he stopped. “Well, you know what? Why don’t we try them all together later tonight. Maybe for dessert.”

Sunny looked up at him. “I like that idea.”

“Me too,” Jinyoung put the bag to the side. “And your other present.” He pulled out a small fabric bag. “Here.”

Sunny opened it carefully with her small fingers. Her eyes going wide.

“Sunny. What is it?” Mark asked, trying to lean forward to see.

“He got me a bunch of new hair ties!” she started pulling them out. Seeing bright ones and scrunchy ones. Ones with poms poms and ones with ribbons and ones with emoji faces attached. “They are so cool!”

“And,” he reached into the pocket of his backpack. “ _This_ is specially made for you.”

He handed something over in his hand.

Mark leaned over her shoulder. It was a hair clip and secured to the front of it was a collection of Korean letters. Glittery and yellow with black outlines in a fun font.

Sunny looked at it. “What is it?”

Jinyoung smiled. “It’s your name. Your Korean name.”

“Haeseon?” she looked up at him.

“Mmhm,” Jinyoung nodded. “All the little girls in Korea get these with their names on them.”

Sunny looked back down at it with wide eyes. Not saying a word.

Jinyoung leaned down, trying to see her face. A little bit of worry dulling his smile. “Do you like it?” he reached out, pushing a piece of hair behind her ear.

“I love it,” she said, looking back at him. She held it close to her chest. “I’ll keep it forever.”

Jinyoung’s smile brightened again, maybe twice as bright.

Mark drew in a breath.

Sunny held the clip up, “Can you put it in my hair?”

Jinyoung hesitated, not taking it. “Maybe your dad should do that.” He looked over to Mark.

Mark smiled. “You got it,” he nodded.

Jinyoung took it from her hands, a little nervous in the way he fumbled with it, sliding it in beside her bangs. He shook it a little, making sure it was secure. “How’s that feel?”

“Good,” Sunny nodded, her hand going up to feel at it. “Okay,” she patted Mark’s leg. “Daddy’s turn.”

“Right,” Jinyoung nodded, reaching for his backpack and unzipping it.

“Oh,” Mark screwed his face. “You didn’t have to get me anything. Really.”

“I wanted to,” Jinyoung waved him away. “Okay, close your eyes and hold out your hands.”

Mark rolled his eyes, “If it’s a dog, you’re taking it back.”

“It’s not a dog,” Jinyoung laughed. “Come on.”

Mark closed his eyes unwillingly, holding out his hands. He felt the firm press of something in his palms, immediately gripping it. Feeling that it was cool and smooth and fragile.

“Okay,” Jinyoung let go. “Open.”

Mark opened his eyes, looking down into his hands. And he saw a small black ceramic pot. Small enough to fit into the palm of his hand. In the middle of it, a bark covered trunk twisted upwards and from it’s branches, little green leaves sprouted.

“It’s a…” he struggled to find the words. “Mini tree?”

“Mhmm,” Jinyoung hummed. “It’s a special Korean variety of bonsai.”

Mark kept staring at, trying to work up some false emotion before he just let his shoulders fall, “You’re going to have to explain to me what that is.”

“Well,” Jinyoung laughed. “It might look small now. But this tree can live as long as,” he shook his head, thinking. “Eight hundred years sometimes.”

“Woah,” Sunny gasped, eyes wide as she stared at it.

Mark still felt so confused. “So, it will get bigger?”

“Yeah,” Jinyoung nodded. “It’s a hmm,” he tried to find the words, “slower growing variety. Takes twice as long as most bonsai. But with the proper care, in a few years, it could be a meter tall.”

Mark looked over to Sunny. “That’s like your height,” he winked.

“Oh my god,” she gasped. “Dad, can we put it in my room?”

Mark looked to Jinyoung, “Would that be…”

“Actually,” Jinyoung looked down towards Sunny, putting a hand to her hair. “I feel like it would look really great in the living room. On the shelf. Don’t you think? And then all of us can take care of it together.”

Mark stared down at the tree, stuck somewhere. _Eight Hundred Years. All of us together._

“I think that would look nice,” Sunny nodded. She jumped up from the couch, “I’m going to go look at my new clip. I’ll be right back.” She skipped down the hall towards her room.

Mark shook himself, getting up.

“So,” he started, going towards the mantle. “How was your time over there?”

“Good.”

“You got a haircut,” he noted, facing away from him. “It looks… nice.”

“Thanks.”

Mark set the tree down onto the shelf. “What were you filming?” He pointed to the tree, “Does this look okay?”

“Looks great,” Jinyoung nodded. “A couple of drama episodes. Just a side role. And doing some photoshoots. Interviews. Nothing exciting.”

Mark huffed at the laissez faire way Jinyoung spoke about his work. “Everything went well then?” he asked, sitting back down on the couch.

“Yeah. I mean it’s work,” he shrugged. “Honestly, I was more excited about coming back here.”

Mark held himself back from deep diving into the connotation. “That eager to have Sunny waking you at dawn again, huh?” he smirked.

Jinyoung smiled. “Alarm clocks don’t come cuter than that.”

Mark hid his laugh, letting it die down to nothing before he looked over again. 

Jinyoung was looking at him. Opening his mouth for a moment to speak. But then he faltered. Closing it again.

“What?”

Jinyoung took a deep breath. “How’s Youngjae?”

Mark tried to keep the wince off his face. “Mr. Choi is good.”

“Oh,” Jinyoung blinked. Eyes going a little wider. “He’s Mr. Choi, again?”

Mark’s mouth flattened into a thin line. “Yeah,” he nodded.

“Mark,” Jinyoung sighed. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he shook his head, waving him away. “Really. It was mutual.”

Jinyoung stared at him. “Was it just… not the right time?”

Mark licked his lips. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Or the right guy. Great guy. But not the right guy.”

Jinyoung seemed to take that in. “Well,” he breathed. “As long as you’re okay.”

Mark nodded, speaking softly. “I am.”

Jinyoung smiled faintly. “Okay. Well,” he started to get up, collecting his bags. “I’m going to unpack before dinner.”

\---

It was remarkably simple the way things fell back into place. The way Jinyoung picked right back up where he left off in his place in their house. How he started taking care of Sunny, how he started swimming at night, how he started singing to those plants. And it made Mark so painfully aware of the hole that had been there when he had been gone. How there was more laughter, more love, more everything with him around.

It was around midday when Mark was doing work, going over scripts, editing his translations, and his phone rang. Assuming first it was something for work before he looked and saw Youngjae’s name staring back. And that didn’t make any sense. Because Youngjae should have been teaching.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Mark,” Youngjae breathed through the phone. “I’m sorry to be calling you like this. I know you’re probably working.”

And something in his voice was immediately off. A little too worried and exasperated. “Youngjae, what’s wrong?” he asked, sitting forward at his desk.

The teacher sighed. “Sunny isn’t feeling well.” 

Mark felt a small little rush in the pit of his stomach. “Feeling well how?”

“I’m not sure,” Youngjae said. “She started getting kind of spacy. Staring at me, getting blearily. Couldn’t answer my questions. And when I went to feel her, she was really warm. So I took her down to the nurse’s office and she’s running a fever. It just came out of nowhere.”

Mark was already up. “I’m on my way. I’ll be there soon.”

“Drive safe, Mark,” Youngjae said, voice still full of concern.

He hung up, going to grab his keys, his shoes.

Jinyoung must have heard him as he started coming down the stairs, “Where are you going?”

Mark looked up at him. “Sunny’s in the nurse’s office. She seems to be sick with something,” he said, pulling on his sneakers. “I’m going to go get her and bring her home.”

Jinyoung’s features flashed with worry. “Let me come with you,” he said, coming down and grabbing for his shoes.

“It’s fine,” Mark shook his head. “I can get her.” He went to the door.

Jinyoung reached out, grabbing his arm. “I know you can,” he nodded. “But let me help anyway.”

Mark looked at him, seeing the worry on his face. And knowing that if it was him, he’d want to be there. He’d want to know exactly what was going on. Not to be left waiting. “Okay,” he nodded. “Come on.”

When Mark and Jinyoung got to school, they headed in together. Mark immediately navigating them to the front office where Youngjae was waiting, his arms crossed over his chest. Mark stopped in his tracks when he saw him, “What are you doing here?”

Youngjae looked up at him, shoulders dropping with relief at the sight of him. “I just wanted to make sure she went home okay.”

“What about your class?”

He waved him away, “I have someone watching them. Don’t worry.” His eyes shifting slightly behind Mark and going wider.

“Oh,” Mark had almost forgotten about Jinyoung, looking back at him and then back at Youngjae. Watching them stare each other down like timid cats in an alleyway. “This is Jinyoung. By the way.”

“Wow,” Youngjae breathed, voice full of awe. “You really do look like her.”

Mark felt himself tighten up. He looked back towards Jinyoung. “I… told him,” he shrugged.

Jinyoung blinked. “Oh.” His mouth falling open, lost for words.

“Sorry,” Youngjae shook his head. “That was probably weird.”

“No, it’s okay,” Jinyoung said. He hesitantly took a step forward, extending his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Youngjae looked to it, reaching out to shake. “You too,” he said, a small pleasant smile brightening his face.

Mark stood there for a moment, feeling a little awkward between them. But instead of piecing apart why, he reached out, touching Youngjae’s shoulder, “Where is she?”

“Dad?” 

Mark raised his head to her voice from the next room. He looked to Youngjae.

The teacher nodded, beckoning towards the sound.

Mark followed it, into a small room off the main office. Sunny was curled up on a chaise. A blanket over her. Her eyes slowly blinking up towards the door. Dazed.

“Hey,” Mark rushed to her side, bending down next to her. His voice going soft. “I’m here. I’m here, baby.”

“Why are you at school?” she croaked, closing her eyes. She sighed, hard, “Why do I hurt?”

Mark pushed back the hair on her forehead, noticing how damp it felt against his burning skin. “Baby, you’re sick,” he soothed. “But it’s okay. Daddy is here to take care of you.”

“No, no,” she protested, wincing. “I can’t be sick. I have to sleepover with Yugyeom and Bambam this week.”

Mark bit down around his smile, “Well, let’s get you home and in bed and then we can talk about the sleepover. Okay?”

Sunny nuzzled into his hand, “I’m tired, Daddy.”

“I know,” he whispered. “You’re okay.”

Jinyoung spoke from behind him. “Do you want me to pull the car up?”

Mark looked over his shoulder, saw his pleading, concerned eyes. He nodded.

“Jinyoung?” Sunny called out, trying to open her eyes again. “You came to my school?”

Jinyoung stepped a little more forward. “Yeah,” he reached out, rubbing her shoulder gently. “I’m here.”

Sunny whined, everything in her falling. “But I have so much I want to show you.”

Jinyoung smiled a little, looking down at Mark. “Another day,” he said. “I promise.”

Jinyoung was the one to drive home. Mark sat in the backseat, feeling her warm face, her hands. Eyes not leaving her.

“How is she?” Jinyoung asked, looking up in the mirror.

Mark stroked his thumb against her soft face. “She’s out.”

“You think she’s okay?”

“I think so,” Mark nodded. “I think she just needs to sleep.”

“Are you okay?”

Mark looked up, seeing his eyes watching him carefully. Feeling the effect of it. “Yeah,” he nodded.

They got home, Mark carrying Sunny to her room and laying her down in her bed. And while he changed her from her damp school clothes into lighter, dry pajamas, attentively maneuvering around her drowsiness, Jinyoung brought her medicine and the thermometer. 

“Sunny,” Mark said, softly, sitting beside her on the bed and shaking her shoulder. “Come on. Open up.”

She didn’t move much, opening her mouth and letting Mark hold her neck to pour the liquid medicine in. She made a face as she swallowed. “Yuck,” she grumbled, settling back down into the sheets. “Grape.”

Mark smiled. “Okay, open one more time. And then you can sleep.”

She managed to follow again, letting him slide the thermometer under her tongue. He held it there, feeling himself lose focus, mind going a little foggy for a moment, before the beep brought him back. He looked at it, “One-oh-one.” He looked back to Jinyoung who was standing behind him, watching. Arms crossed and brows knitted together in worry.

“I don’t read fahrenheit.”

“It’s a fever,” Mark nodded, suddenly feeling like that steady heat coming off of her was a little stronger, filling the air around him. “But not too high.”

Jinyoung’s face didn’t let go of any of that worry, if anything it only hardened his features more.

“What’s wrong?” Mark asked.

“What do you mean?” Jinyoung shrugged, motioning down to her. “This is wrong. Look at her.”

Mark did, seeing the way she was curled up in her bed. Already fast asleep again. “She’s okay,” he nodded. And when he did, his head gave a restless spin. “She’s safe.”

“How can you say that?” Jinyoung argued. “She’s in pain. She’s out of it. She’s burning up.”

“Jinyoung,” Mark groaned. “Stop. She’s sick. We all get sick.”

“I just,” Jinyoung took a nervous breath, shaken and tense. “I feel awful. I’ve been home for two days and I bring home whatever this is and get her sick.”

Mark felt his head throb with a sudden dull pain. “You don’t know that it was you,” he countered. “It could have been from school. It could have been anything.”

“Mark. Don’t,” Jinyoung sighed, hands reaching to rub against his own face. “You know it was me. It was definitely me.” He stepped a little closer, reaching out and feeling her face. “God,” he breathed. “She’s so warm.” 

“Jinyoung, hey.” Mark snatched his hand away from her face. He felt that fuzzy spin of his head again, “Stop. Come here.” And he stood up from the bed, drawing Jinyoung closer and sliding his arms around him. He hugged him, feeling the line between the man’s shoulders go tight at the sudden embrace.

“It’s okay,” Mark soothed, head falling against his shoulder. Eyes closing, melting into the lightheadedness that seemed to overtake everything else. Feeling his breath against Jinyoung’s neck, only distantly aware of how close he was.

Jinyoung’s chest caved in around him. And though it was slow, he eventually put his arms around Mark too. Speaking softly, close to his ear, “I don’t like this part.”

“No one does,” Mark shrugged. “But she’s a kid. And it’s just a bug. She will get over it soon enough and be back to annoying you in no time.” He smiled, huffing. Feeling himself sink deeper into him. Enjoying it far too much.

“Mark,” Jinyoung pulled away, his hands snaking up to Mark’s neck to hold his face. And his brows were so beautifully drawn together in concern once again.

Mark couldn’t decide. Eyes moving from the top of his face to the bottom. Not sure if he’d rather kiss at that space between his brows, in hopes that it would relax. Or kiss his mouth, the pretty upward curve of his lip. Wondering how thrilling it would feel, taste. And his head felt like an ocean that was leaving him swimming, fighting against some current that he didn’t want to fight against anymore. Because he was tired and dizzy and Jinyoung felt so good. Too good.

Jinyoung’s voice was so low. His hands sliding against Mark’s skin. “You feel warm.”

“Yeah,” Mark huffed, that lightheadedness making him feel like he was in freefall with no consideration for how far below the ground was. No filter left on his words. Melting into him. “You have that effect on me.”

“No,” Jinyoung shook his head. “Like feverish.”

“Hmm?” Mark hummed, too busy focusing all of his attention on his decision. On the man’s mouth. And he dared to think that just a few more inches and he’d be there. Right where he should be.

Jinyoung pulled his hands away. “Maybe you should lay down.”

And that persuasive touch was gone. Yet, Mark didn’t feel any more grounded. The waver of gravity still spinning him. And the realization of it pulled his thoughts from wherever they were. “Yeah,” he swallowed. “Maybe I should.”

“Come on,” Jinyoung beckoned. “Let me take you up to your room.” He wrapped a firm arm around Mark’s side, “Lean on me.”

And if Mark had been in his right mind, he would have fought it. But he wasn’t, feeling like his feet may betray him the way his feelings nearly had. So he slumped against Jinyoung’s side, letting himself be dragged down the hall, up the stairs. 

“Oh god,” Mark groaned, when every step felt achy all the way to his bones. “I see what she means. This hurts.”

“You’re almost there,” Jinyoung encouraged. Taking him to his room and sitting him down on the bed. “Just relax,” he said. “I’ll be back.”

And Mark immediately gave in to the feeling of wanting to be sideways, laying down and feeling the heat rush down his spine. He fanned himself, but even the simple motion felt slow and strenuous. He slumped into the pillows, trying to keep his eyes open but they just kept wanting to close. When he opened them again, he saw Jinyoung coming in.

Sunny was over one shoulder, while his other hand held a glass of water.

“What are you-” Mark tried to ask, but talking was hard.

“So, I can take care of you both,” Jinyoung said, laying her down next to him. She was knocked out, rolling with however he tried to place her.

“Jinyoung. I’m fin-”

“Here,” he stopped him, handing him the glass of water and dropping a few pills into his hand.

Mark sighed. Hands shaky, everything aching. He swallowed the medicine, drank the water, letting Jinyoung take the glass back.

“Rest, Mark,” he said.

Mark summoned whatever energy he had left to reach out, grabbing his wrist. Watching him turn back. Mark licked his lips. “Stay,” he croaked. “Please.”

Jinyoung’s chest widened. He slowly reached for Mark’s hand, holding it between his own. “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”

Mark fell asleep. Well, in and out. Never feeling quite like he got there. Like he was trapped in a haze, paralyzed and aching. Every muscle crying out. Shivering against the hot and the cold. And being so powerless was tortuous.

There was only one respite in the haze. Because every once in a while, he’d feel warm. And not warm like the fever. No, a different kind of warm. Something that felt slow and smooth, like warm honey being dripped onto him. Right in the center of his forehead. And everytime it would come, Mark would want to open his eyes. But it was too difficult. So instead, relegating himself to feeling it. Feeling the press of it against his skin, the closeness. The way in which it diffused through him, quelling the shivers, soothing the aches. 

And by the time he opened his eyes, the light outside his bedroom windows was gone leaving only blackened night sky. He felt the dampness of his soaked shirt sticking to his skin, the blankets half on him and half off him, his hair pushed back off his forehead. He rolled over, toward the center of the bed. Seeing Sunny next to him, still curled up. Still sleeping. And he looked over to the other side of her. Jinyoung lay there on his side beneath Mark’s covers, firm arms cradling his head. Eyes closed, face peaceful, soundly sleeping. 

And it made Mark’s heart race awake. Jinyoung in his bed. Even like this. Even with Sunny between them. Maybe especially with Sunny between them. This picture of togetherness that they never strictly acknowledged. And Mark hated it when his feverish mind found the word. _Family._

He stopped, turning back to turn on a lamp, but as soon as he did, he heard Jinyoung stirring. He looked over, settling back down as Jinyoung’s eyes opened.

The man gave a long tired exhale, looking up to Mark.

Mark felt himself at a loss for breath. He tried to speak, mouth feeling dry and coated, “What time is it?”

Jinyoung shrugged, not looking. “Around two?”

Mark looked down to Sunny, hand reaching out weakly. Fingers combing into her hair. “What did I miss?”

“She got up for a little while,” Jinyoung said, rolling onto his back. “But she was still exhausted. I had her take some more medicine. Drink some water. Eat a popsicle. And then she passed out again.”

Mark tried to feel her forehead, her cheeks, her neck. But he was still so feverish that he didn’t trust his ability to gauge it. “How’s her fever?”

Jinyoung didn’t answer. Instead he turned into her, cradling her small face in his hand as he leaned down, lightly kissing her forehead. Hovering there for a moment before pulling away. “She’s a little better.”

Mark watched, furrowing his brows.

Jinyoung looked up at him, seeing his face. He smiled, “Did your mom never do that? Test your temperature like that.”

Mark blinked. Remembering that slow and smooth drip of warm honey against his forehead. The one that made the torturous haze feel soothed if only for a moment. Realizing exactly what it had been. And it made him feel like he was burning even hotter for a moment. “No,” he shook his head. “Never like that.”

Jinyoung smiled to himself. “How do you feel?”

“Tired,” Mark smiled. “Why? How do I look?”

Jinyoung went quiet. Biting at his lips. Eyes wide and round. “You should get some sleep.”

Mark nearly laughed, feeling the pain in his head bite back. “That bad?”

“No,” he shook his head. “Just. You should rest.”

Mark didn’t know what he meant. What he was trying to say. Or trying not to say. But he didn’t have the energy to piece it apart.

Jinyoung shifted a little closer. “I’ll be here.”

And his eyes were the last thing Mark saw before he fell into sleep.

\---

When Mark woke up again, the room was soft with morning light. He took in a deep breath, noticing the way his shirt wasn’t damp and sticky against his skin anymore. His body waking up but without all the aches and pains he had the night before. No longer that feverish heat leaching out of him but instead he felt at ease. Relaxed. He looked to the side, seeing the other half of the bed absent of Sunny and Jinyoung. Just their imprints left in the creases of the sheets.

Mark got up, noticing the levity in his steps as he came downstairs. No longer that haze in his mind, but instead everything felt crisp and new.

He came into the kitchen, seeing Jinyoung sitting at the table with Sunny in his lap. They were leaned over a layer of newspaper that had been spread out. Glass jars filled with water and clippings of plants, their roots spread out in tendrils. Sunny’s hands dusted brown as she pressed soil into a clay pot, maneuvering around the green foliage spilling out. Tongue sticking out of her mouth in concentration.

Jinyoung was holding her, speaking to her softly in Korean. Sounding so sweet and helpful as he instructed her carefully.

And Mark just watched them for a moment. Not that feverish lightheadedness in his head but something similar to it in his chest. Feeling so big and light and overwhelming.

Sunny looked up. “Daddy!” she started to scramble out of Jinyoung’s lap.

“Ah, ah” he held her a little tighter. “Hands.” He reached for a paper towel, dipping it into a jar before reaching around her little fingers to wipe them down. “Okay,” he said, putting her feet onto the floor. “Go.”

Sunny ran towards Mark, grabbing his hand. “Look,” she pointed to the table, dragging him closer. “Look what we are doing.”

“What is it?” he smiled.

“These plants were getting too big. They needed bigger homes,” she pointed to the pots of soil. “And they had baby plants too,” she pointed to the glass jars. “So we are going to help them grow into big plants!”

“Wow,” Mark said, leaning down to study them. “I hope you can take care of all of these.”

“I can,” Sunny nodded. “Jinyoung is teaching me.”

Jinyoung smiled. “Sunny,” he said. “Why don’t you put this one back in your room?” He handed her one of the pots. “Make sure it’s in the light, okay?”

“Okay,” she grabbed it, wrapping her arms around it carefully to not drop it as she carried it down the hall.

Mark watched her go, laughing. “Seems like she’s feeling better.”

“Seems so,” Jinyoung started cleaning up the excess soil with his hands and brushing it back into the pots. “What about you?”

“Much better,” Mark nodded, finding there was coffee waiting for him in the pot and pouring himself a cup.

“Good,” Jinyoung said. “I was worried about you for a minute.”

Mark took a seat at the table with him. “Why?” he huffed.

Jinyoung wiped his dirty hands diligently. He looked up. “I just was.”

Mark felt that lightness in his chest again. Sipping at his coffee to try and draw his eyes away. “God, I felt awful,” he scoffed, smiling over the brim of the mug. “What was that?”

“I don’t know,” Jinyoung shook his head. “Whatever it was, you seemed to have burned through it.”

Mark looked back, watching him clean up. Feeling more and more like Jinyoung had burned through something in him, too.

\---

Sunny was fine after that day, which meant she could go have her first sleepover at Yugyeom’s since Bambam had been adopted. She was so excited, trying to talk Mark into bringing toys that she wanted to show him. But Mark talked her down, saying Bambam would be there forever, so there was no rush. Promising that the next sleepover could be at their house. And he watched her run up Jackson and Jaebeom’s driveway towards the front door, sure to wave to Yugyeom and Bambam before heading home.

Night fell. And the house went quiet too. No scampering feet. Or shouting. Or laughing. Just stillness. And Mark was in his room when he heard the crash of water, rousing him from his bed.

He went to the window, looking down at the pool. Jinyoung was diligently swimming his laps again. The striking cut of his body as he swam filling Mark with all the memories of it. Eliciting a hiss between his teeth and the sudden pool of warmth that made a home in his gut, threatening to move lower.

And maybe he could blame it on the long weeks he’d spent away from Jinyoung. The residual effects of the fever. The fact that Sunny was gone. Maybe he could blame those reasons for the sudden burst of energy he got. The one that had him stripping off his clothes in favor of his swimsuit and walking downstairs, out to the pool.

He stood on the edge, looking down as Jinyoung continued, not being noticed. Arms folding over his chest for a moment, shivering at more than just the chilly night air. Everything going jittered and stiff as he crouched down, slipping himself into the cool pool water. He ducked his head under the surface, trying to calm himself. Holding himself there for just a moment before he opened his eyes, seeing the blur of Jinyoung’s legs standing up in the shallow part of the pool, facing him.

Mark came back up, taking a big breath and pushing his wet hair from his face. Seeing Jinyoung stare back from the other side of the pool, mouth parted as he caught his breath. Chest expanding and contracting.

“Hi,” he panted.

Mark swallowed, ducking down until he was treading in water up to his chin. Trying to hide. “Hey.”

Jinyoung blinked. “You got in.”

“Yeah. It’s… a nice night.” 

Jinyoung was silent. Looking a little tongue-tied.

Mark started to feel awkward under his intent gaze. He backed himself up against the wall of the pool. Shrinking away. “Don’t let me stop you,” he said, softly. The water’s surface carrying his voice.

Jinyoung took another breath. “It’s fine,” he shook his head. “I was done anyway.” And his feet lumbered over, backing himself into the opposite wall and standing across from him. Watching him. His mouth opening up, “How’s your night?”

Mark bit at his lips. “Quiet.”

Jinyoung's face brightened a little. Smirking. Those lines Sunny had drawn at his eyes deepening. “Is that why you’re bothering me?”

Mark shrugged, “Maybe.”

Jinyoung looked down, laughing to himself. His crescented eyes glittering with the bright blue light of the water when he looked back up to him. “What did you do before I was here?”

Mark felt the swell of his chest, ever so conscious of the way it felt below the surface of the water. “It’s hard to remember,” he whispered. 

Jinyoung didn’t respond. Instead, he pushed off the wall, swimming a little closer while maintaining a wide radius. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better,” Mark stood up a little more, chest rising from the water. “In fact, I wanted to thank you.”

“For?”

“Taking care of Sunny and I,” he said, looking down at the water as his hands started toying with it. “While we were sick.”

The corner of Jinyoung’s mouth pulled up minisculely. “You’d do the same for me.”

Mark looked up at him. “How do you know?”

Jinyoung shrugged. “I just do.” He watched him. Eyes so round and curious and bright. Unwavering.

Mark remembered that feeling of electric overexposure that tickled at every nerve. Something that the chill of night or the water couldn’t cool. If anything the brightness of Jinyoung’s features, his bare glistening skin, his black soaked hair, just made it feel that much stronger. And Mark could barely take it.

“Why do you look at me like that?”

Jinyoung’s head tilted. “Like what?”

Mark’s chest felt too light. “You always look at me,” he started. “Like you're… I don’t know. Like you’re studying me.”

Jinyoung swam a little closer, leaning onto the same wall as Mark. “Maybe I am.”

“Why?”

“Cause you are hard to read,” he shrugged.

Mark’s brows creased together in the middle, he shook his head. “I don’t know if that’s true,” he said, feeling that exposure heighten. Like Jinyoung could read everything.

“Of course it is,” he tutted. “But it makes sense really.”

Mark raised a brow, “Because?”

Jinyoung smiled. “Because you don’t even know what you’re thinking most of the time.” 

Mark hated when he was right. Wondering if it was that easy to piece him apart. And why Jinyoung was smiling like he took joy in doing it. 

“But, even so,” the man shrugged, stepping a little closer. “I think I’m getting the hang of it.”

“Really?” Mark asked, not immediately registering the way they were getting closer. “How do you know?”

Jinyoung was next to him now. Every small droplet of water against his luminous skin glistening in the blue light. Including the one suspended on the curve of his upper lip. So close to falling, escaping into his part mouth. Pretty pink, more saturated in the chill of the water.

Mark gulped, “What am I thinking now?”

Jinyoung was so near now that there was nowhere else to go. Backing Mark against the wall. Eyes that quiet begging, still fixated. Voice so low and warm and close. “You’re thinking you want to kiss me.”

Mark couldn’t breathe. His chest so hollowly constricting around nothing. Not letting him relieve the spin of his head. Not letting him look away. Keeping him cornered and pressed into that wall. Not able to quantify the time he stood there, paralyzed, before his mind started to loop his own words back to him. 

_Stop. You’re being so weird. Think of who this is. Think of what you are doing. Don’t complicate this. Don’t be so weak. Don’t._

Mark took a shaky breath, feeling it rattle his chest. The slow conscious beat of his heart. He breathed, “Maybe you aren’t getting the hang of it then.”

Jinyoung’s eyes changed without a blink. Going from the unignorable pleading to extraordinary hurt. Wide and open like a wound. He pulled away, giving Mark his space without looking away. 

Mark felt a hole tear into his chest, releasing all that heavy air until it was collapsing. Heart racing awake. Struggling to breath again.

Jinyoung licked his lips. Licking away that drop by his mouth. “Well, maybe I should just leave you to it then,” he said, expressionless. “Have a good night, Mark.” He went to the wall, pulling himself up onto the ledge.

The sudden flush of oxygen flooded Mark’s head. Panic rose up his spine. Making everything in him tighten, pained. Mind rushing and rushing. Everything that had just felt too slow suddenly too fast. And he couldn’t calm down.

_Fuck it._

Mark’s fingers reached out, grabbing Jinyoung’s wrist tightly and yanking him back into the pool with a splash. Letting go as he crowded him up against the ledge, hands against the concrete, gripping tight. 

And maybe he expected Jinyoung’s eyes to be filled with the same shock he’d seen when he pressed him against the wall on the front porch, but he didn’t expect for Jinyoung’s warm hands to immediately go to his jaw, spreading down his neck and drawing him in instantly.

And if those scales had been weighted more equal before, they were shot to shit now as Mark weighted everything towards him, letting his face be dragged closer. Eyes barely fixating on that perfect pink mouth before he was meeting it with his own. 

It was cataclysmic. The way in which it bundled up everything into something so simple as one mouth on another. It was all those destructive forces that Jinyoung had unintentionally planted in Mark. The anger and the envy and the resentment and the pride. All knotted up in the way that Jinyoung so firmly held him between his hands. The heat of each finger still feeling like a hot brand against Mark’s skin, burning down those fearful parts that he hadn't meant to hold onto for as long as he did. 

And yet, it was all the other feelings too. The ones that were able to grow in the ashes of all that destruction. The curiosity and the contentment and the desire and the comfort. The beautiful things that were as simple as the softness of Jinyoung’s lips, the warmth of his bare chest, the heat of his breath, the taste of pool water when his mouth fell open, giving way to Mark’s tongue that was heavy with unsaid words.

And that panic that had been rising in Mark felt too overwhelmed now. Overwhelmed with everything on the outside that managed to distract from anything on the inside. The nip of Jinyoung’s teeth. The crane of his head. The brush of his nose. The way his hands melted downwards, down his neck and his chest. Under the surface of the water, down his sides until they were gripping around Mark’s hips, drawing him even closer. Close enough to feel every line in Jinyoung’s body, even the one that seemed to firm under Mark’s weight.

“Mark,” Jinyoung panted, breathless, into his mouth.

His ears flushed at the sound of his name.

Jinyoung pulled away, leaning back against the wall while holding Mark’s hips firm still. Rolling his own up into Mark’s, brushing up against the firm line of his swimsuit.

“Fuck, Jinyoung,” Mark hissed when the sensation went everywhere, clouding his head. He looked at him. His wet tongue curled up behind his teeth in his mouth. His shuddering breath from his firm chest. His weighty stare burying itself in Mark like there was nothing left to study. Surely set on his objective.

 _His eyes._ So unlike any look he’d ever seen in him. Yet still so. So. Undeniably. Sunny. 

“I’m sorry,” Mark froze. His brain overpowering everything. Shutting his body down. “I can’t.”

It took a moment for Jinyoung to react. For his eyes to show that same quiet hurt as before. But now it was magnified, amplified. By the closeness of their faces and the blown out blacks in his eyes. His hands losing that firm grip, stilled where they hung low on his hips.

“I’m sorry,” Mark repeated. But it didn’t help anymore than it did the first time. And he didn’t know what to do. 

So he pulled away, taking one last look before he raised himself out of the pool, walking back towards the house. Not caring about the soaked imprints he was leaving on the wood floors as he ran up the stairs, into his room, shutting the door, locking it from the inside. 

He went to the bathroom, turning on the shower as hot as it would go and standing under it. Feeling the burn of it against his skin but it still wouldn’t distract his mind enough. Wouldn’t let the image of Jinyoung’s face run down the drain.

Mark took a breath, feeling that hollowed out rattle.

“I’m sorry.”


	9. Nine.

If Mark had been practicing avoiding Jinyoung in the past, the next couple days felt like the championship. Because almost as soon as he came out of his room the next day, he saw Jinyoung waiting for him downstairs. Eyes wide and waiting to talk. Mark made some excuse about having to go pick up Sunny and then proceeded to spend the rest of his time when she was home glued to her side, so that Jinyoung could never pull him away. 

And then after she went to sleep, Mark had botched some other reason, like he had to take a shower or he was heading off to sleep. Sunny went to school the following week and Jinyoung would try to come to Mark’s office, asking for a minute of his time. But he’d always say that he was busy with a deadline or had a work call to answer. And somehow managed to get through the whole week, narrowly avoiding any real conversation with Jinyoung about what had happened in the pool.

“Come on!” Sunny screamed from down the staircase. “We gotta go!”

“Alright, alright,” Mark hustled downstairs, hearing the slide of the glass doors.

Jinyoung was leaning in from the backyard, a book folded between his fingers, “Where are you guys going?”

Mark looked up at him, feeling the dull ache in his chest. The one that had become commonplace ever since their incident in the pool. As if kissing him had caused this shift that made it impossible to feel anything but a debilitating mix of yearning and regret. Averting his eyes. “I’m taking her to soccer practice.”

“It’s the first day of the new season!” Sunny said, wearing her practice clothes and her cleats with her soccer ball tucked under her arm. 

“Oh, okay,” Jinyoung nodded. “Well,” he looked up to Mark, looking like he was about to speak.

But before he could, Mark cut him off. “Coach Jackson is going to be mad if we are late,” he pointed towards the door. “Her and I should probably be going.”

Jinyoung shrank away slightly. “Okay,” he stepped inside a little more. “Could we,” he held his book to his chest. “Talk maybe? When you get back?”

Mark bit at his lips, feeling all the nervous energy bubbling up within him. “Maybe,” he nodded.

Sunny groaned. “Talk later,” she grabbed Mark’s hand. “We got to go!”

Mark shrugged at him, seeing the small smile pull at Jinyoung’s face. Capturing it like a photo before he was pulled out the door.

\---

As soon as they arrived at practice, Sunny was running for the field. “I’m here! I’m here!”

“Sunny!” Yugyeom and Bambam cheered from where they were trying to figure out how to strap their shin guards on.

“Welcome!” Jackson greeted her as he counted up all ten squirming players before him. “Okay,” he nodded. “I think that’s everyone. How about we get started?” He grabbed the whistle around his neck, blowing it sharply.

Mark covered his ears as he jogged over to Jaebeom’s place on the sideline.

He was sitting in a lawn chair with a beach umbrella over him. “I knew getting him a whistle would give him too much power,” he shook his head.

Mark smiled. “You both are saints for taking on the team this season,” he said, watching as Jackson started to explain the first drill to them.

Jaebeom shrugged. “It will be good. Jackson’s always wanted to. It will teach him patience.”

“And you?” Mark turned to him.

“My job is easy,” he smiled. He beckoned to the cooler that he was currently resting his feet on. “Keep the ice and juice boxes stocked for anyone who needs a break, get some reading done, and make sure he doesn’t go too hard on them.” 

“They’re six after all,” Mark noted. “Not exactly division one.” 

“Please remind him of that when you have a chance,” he sighed, looking out at his husband who was currently trying to guide the kids around the cones. 

“Well, both of you have your work cut out for you,” Mark sighed. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“You could stay if you’re not busy,” Jaebeom went in the cooler, grabbing a juice box.

Mark stopped. Thinking about Jinyoung waiting at home for him. What he said. About wanting to talk. He felt his stomach give a nervous twist at the thought of it. “Yeah,” he sighed. “I’ll stay.” And he reached out grabbing the juice box and taking a seat in the chair next to Jaebeom.

The two of them watched the kids practice. As soon it started, it was already a Renaissance painting. Sunny was confidently running Jackson’s drills, dribbling around cones with ease. Yugyeom was off under a tree, studying an ant colony he’d located. Bambam was whining about the heat, sitting out about half the practice already on Jaebeom’s lap and consuming about half the juice boxes in the cooler. And there were half a dozen other kids who were in various states of disarray.

“Hey, Bammie,” Jaebeom encouraged the boy on his lap. “Why don’t you head back out there? I think you’ve rested enough.”

“I don’t wanna,” the boy pouted.

“Are you sure?” Mark asked. “You don’t want to be like Mia Hamm or Cristiano Ronaldo?”

Bambam’s face turned up in distrust. “Who is that?”

“Famous soccer players,” Mark smiled.

Bam’s eyes got wider. “You can get famous for playing soccer?”

“Mmhm,” Mark nodded. “Of course. They have millions of fans who fill up stadiums to see them! But you have to practice really, really hard.”

The little boy’s eyebrows drew together, concentrating. He looked out to the field, taking a last big sip of his juice box and handing it back to Jaebeom. “Okay,” he nodded. “I’ll go back out.” Before he ran out to join the rest of the team.

They kept watching for a while before Mark looked over. “Why are you so quiet today?”

Jaebeom shrugged into his book, “I’m waiting for you to tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“Whatever you are holding onto,” Jaebeom smiled.

Mark felt himself tighten up, a flush of nerves at the memory of what happened. And he thought about keeping it inside where no one would have to know, but he knew if would eat away at him. He sighed. “I was stupid.”

Jaebeom dog-eared the page of his book, putting it into his lap. “And-?”

Mark hesitated for a moment. Rolling his eyes with a groan. He looked at him. “I kissed him.”

Jaebeom’s mouth raised at the corners. “How was it?” he asked.

Mark put his face into his hands. “Really great,” he said. “Until it wasn’t.”

“What happened?”

Mark pulled his face away, looking to Jaebeom. He sighed. “He looks like Sunny.” 

“Mark,” Jaebeom rolled his eyes. “Don’t do that.”

“What?” he glared.

Jaebeom scoffed, “Don’t pretend your problem is that he looks like your daughter when you know that’s not even it.”

Mark sat back in his chair. Going quiet. “It’s not?”

“Of course not,” he said. “What do you think your sister does? Her kids look like her and her husband. Do they stop being attracted to each other because of it?”

Mark felt a little stupid when he hadn’t really considered that. “Then,” he thought. “What is it?”

“I think you need to figure that out. What is seeing Sunny in him making you fear?”

Mark sat, thinking. Not able to piece apart his own feelings and thoughts. Feeling the disconnect between what he logically knew to be true and what he felt. Because surely, it wasn’t logical to want to complicate things between Sunny and Jinyoung by having feelings for him, but he also couldn’t deny that those feelings were strong. Magnetic. In a way that scared him. 

“I don’t know,” he whispered.

“He’s a good guy, Mark.”

“Stop saying that,” Mark said. “It doesn’t help me.”

“Well, if anything,” Jaebeom shrugged. “I won the bet.” 

Mark looked at him. “What bet?” 

“With Jackson,” he started to get up. “For how long it would take you to cave.” He smiled, pointing towards the far side of the field. “Now, excuse me while I go collect my little bug enthusiast and remind him he’s at soccer practice.”

\---

Mark employed all the same tactics as the week passed. And it seemed to be working. Until he was sitting at the table after dinner one day, leaning over Sunny’s shoulder as she worked on her homework.

 _“The little bunny sits in the grass,”_ she read from her phonics workbook.

“Mmhm,” Mark hummed along, leaning his chin into his hand. “Good.”

Mark looked up as Jinyoung came into the kitchen. Already changed into pajamas. He watched as he took the two of them in with a glance and a small smile before going to the sink and starting to wash the dishes leftover from dinner.

_“He is brown with a white fluffy tail and a pink nose.”_

And Mark was trying to concentrate on what Sunny was reading, but he couldn’t stop transfixing on Jinyoung. His dark hair and the elegant slope of his neck. His muscled shoulders and his trim waist beneath the tightness of his t-shirt. The curve of his-

Mark started to get up, feeling Sunny look up to him. He touched her head, lightly. “Keep reading,” he nodded.

She looked back down to her workbook. _“The bunny is some. T-times l-,”_ she paused. “Laun-”

“Spell it,” Mark said. He came up behind Jinyoung. “Excuse me.”

The man turned, looking back at him. “What do you need?”

Mark tried not to look down to his mouth, remembering exactly how it had felt those few nights ago. He swallowed. “A water glass.”

Jinyoung nodded. “I’ll get it for you,” he said, drying his hands on a dish towel. He opened the cabinet and reached to the taller shelf.

Sunny read out the letters from the table, “L-o-n-e-l-y.”

Mark’s eyes went downwards, staring at the rise of Jinyoung’s shirt. The exposure of his hip bone from where it rose above the top of his pajamas. “Lonely,” he sighed.

 _“The bunny is sometimes lonely,”_ Sunny murmured back to herself.

Mark looked over to her. “Circle that one,” he said.

She nodded, circling it.

“Keep going,” he said, leaning into the counter as Jinyoung brought the glass down, taking it to the fridge to fill it. Watching as their eyes met. That small, knowing smile across his mouth. A nearly insignificant amount of smugness in his eyes.

And Mark suddenly felt like maybe Jinyoung was very aware of what he was doing. Which shouldn’t have made him feel even warmer but it did.

_“He has a mommy bunny, a daddy bunny, a brother bunny, and a sister bunny.”_

“Here,” Jinyoung placed the glass down on the counter next to Mark. His hand coming up to lightly touch at Mark’s waist and lean closer to him. “You good?” he whispered with a smile.

And even with the lightest touch of his hand, Mark felt his body reacting. Twisting up tight. Making him flush from his ears to his neck.

But Jinyoung didn’t wait for his answer. Instead, he just smirked and went back to the sink, flicking on the faucet to finish the dishes.

_“But he doesn’t have a friend.”_

Mark took a steady breath, trying to calm down the buzz of his skin but it wouldn’t surrender. And he knew he should have gone back and sat down at the table, distracted himself with that story about the lonely little bunny, but he didn’t.

“Jinyoung,” he murmured, reaching out. His fingertips grazing over the warm inside of the man’s wrist. “Can I show you something? In the hall?”

Jinyoung’s eyes traveled upward to him, stilled for a moment before he slowly reached up and turned off the water. “Sure.”

Mark looked over to Sunny, seeing her look up from her book. “Keep reading,” he nodded. “I’m listening.”

“Mmhm,” Sunny smiled, starting to read again. 

Mark followed Jinyoung out of the room.

_“He wants to make a new friend.”_

They got about as far as behind the wall that separated the hall from the kitchen, before Jinyoung turned to face him, “Wha-” 

Mark's hand went to his waist and another to his neck, pulling him in. Not letting Jinyoung get a word out before Mark’s mouth was there, silencing him. Feeling that warm, urgent press of their lips just as good as last time.

_“But he doesn’t know how.”_

Mark squeezed his hand harder around Jinyoung’s waist as he deepened the kiss, thumb swiping at his cheek. He felt Jinyoung’s hands come up to his chest, fingers splaying and dragging down him slowly.

 _“He de-dek,”_ Sunny sighed from the other room. “Dad, help.”

Mark broke away. Eyeing Jinyoung’s warm eyes and his parted mouth, leaning back when Jinyoung tried to chase his lips. “Spell it out, baby,” he called, surrendering when Jinyoung pulled him in again, hungrily.

Sunny spelled it out slowly, “D-e-c-i-d-e-s.”

Mark pulled his mouth away again. “Decides,” he called as Jinyoung leveraged him against the wall. 

“Ahhh,” Sunny said, continuing to read. _“He decides to bring a gift.”_

Mark’s hand at Jinyoung’s face sloped downward, thumb pressing up against his mouth. Watching the way he kissed it. Feeling his gut churn in response. “Fuck,” he hissed under his breath.

 _“What should he bring his new friend?”_ she paused. “Dad!”

Mark’s eyes still trained on his thumb that was now sliding between Jinyoung’s open lips. “Yes, baby.”

“How do you spell carrot?”

Mark gulped, “C.”

Jinyoung sucked at it, wide eyes watching Mark while he did it.

Mark wanted to cry. “A.”

Jinyoung let it fall from his mouth, bringing his face closer again like he was going to kiss him.

Mark closed his eyes, wanting it. “R.”

But instead, he felt the press of Jinyoung’s mouth on his neck. Featherlight, nearly ticklish.

“Another R,” Mark said, squirming under the sensation but the press of Jinyoung’s hips held him firm.

And then he felt Jinyoung’s teeth biting down, rough against the skin.

“Ah-,” Mark gasped before gritting through it. “I mean, O.”

Jinyoung's fingertips combed down his front. From his chest, down his torso, lower until his hand was closing around the space between Mark’s legs.

“T,” Mark choked out, shuddering around his touch.

“Okay,” Sunny cheered. “Finished!”

Mark’s hands pushed at Jinyoung’s shoulders, creating enough space to where he could maneuver away from him and go back into the kitchen. He wiped his slick mouth with the back of his hand. “Okay,” he went to the table, sitting down next to her. He put his face between his hands, trying to cool the red of his cheeks. “What’s next?”

Sunny was putting her workbook into her backpack. “Math,” she said, pulling out a folder for her math worksheets.

Mark flicked his eyes up, watching how Jinyoung stumbled back in. Features a little dazed. His shirt a little stretched from Mark’s hands.

“Jinyoung,” Mark asked. “Can you help her with math?”

Jinyoung looked at him, still. “Yeah,” he breathed. “Yeah, I can help.”

“Good,” Mark got up slowly from the table, noticing the shake of his legs. “I’m going to go take a shower.”

“Thanks, Dad!” Sunny cheered.

Jinyoung sat down beside her, a little bit of that smugness back in his eyes and smile. “Have fun.”

\---

It was Friday night and Jackson and Jaebeom invited Mark, Jinyoung, and Sunny over to their house to hang out. And all had been fine, except for the way Mark kept catching Jinyoung’s gaze from across the table. Watching his eyes go warm and his mouth turn up in a grin more and more as the night went on.

The children had tuckered out already, falling asleep in one big pile on the living room couches while the adults drank wine out on the deck.

“The kids want to win their soccer games,” Jackson argued, his hand around a wine glass, nearly sloshing it onto the table.

“Are you sure?” Mark asked, taking a sip. “Because I think they are more concerned with having fun.” He looked up, seeing Jinyoung staring at him from across the table. His eyes so warm and lively that Mark couldn’t look away.

“Winning _is_ fun,” Jackson got emphatic. “Look. I was looking at some online resources. I read a whole study about dynamic stretching that was life-changing! It’s going to be a total game changer for these kids.”

“Uhuh,” Jaebeom said, unconvinced. “Jinyoung. How do you feel about soccer?”

“Hm?” Jinyoung tore his eyes from Mark. “I like soccer,” he said. “I used to play in school.”

“Would you want to help Jackson out with the team?” Jaebeom asked. “He could use some help managing all the kids. They are really a handful.”

“Jaebeom,” Jackson scolded, sitting up in his chair. “There’s no need. Really. I know what I’m-”

“I would love to help,” Jinyoung smiled.

“Great,” Jaebeom looked over to his husband. “It’s settled then. You start Sunday.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Jinyoung nodded. “If you’ll excuse me.” He eyed Mark as he went inside.

“Mark,” Jackson called. “Please tell my husband that I don’t need help. Especially not from Jinyoung.

“You need help, Jackson,” Mark said bluntly. “Honestly, you’ve seen how good Jinyoung is with kids. Why are you so against it?”

“You know why,” Jaebeom teased.

Jackson glared at him.

Mark pushed out his chair. “I’ll leave you two to talk,” he said. “I’m just going to go make sure the kids are still sleeping.”

But when Mark got inside, he only briefly passed by the living room, seeing that the trio were still fast asleep in their dogpile, before he spotted the line of light at the door of the guest bathroom down the hall. He snuck closer to it, leaning his ear up against the door.

But Jinyoung must have heard him because he opened the door and dragged Mark in, shutting it behind him. They stood face to face in the narrow width between the wall and the sink. Jinyoung’s face hovering close. His eyes so warm and round.

And Mark couldn’t help himself when he closed the distance between them, lips meeting. It was slow at first. Sweet and satisfying. But it didn’t take long for Jinyoung to step a little closer, leaning Mark against the sink. Craning his head to kiss him more deeply, more urgently.

“Jinyoung,” Mark whined when he felt his lips kiss down his jaw, into his neck. “I can’t. I can’t do this.”

He didn't stop, gritting his teeth into the skin behind his ear. “You already are,” he whispered.

“I know,” Mark’s eyes fell close. Knees feeling loose. The bite of Jinyoung’s teeth making him slump against the sink. “I’ll stop. Just give me a second.”

Jinyoung’s voice was so deep and warm in his ear. “You can stop,” he said. “I’ll keep going.”

Mark felt his head spin. “Jinyoung,” he sighed, ready to push him away.

And he pulled back to look at him. “What?”

And Mark swallowed. The sight of his face eliciting too much ever-present want. And he knew he should have stopped him, but he couldn’t. He licked his lips. “Be quick.”

Jinyoung smiled, coming close again to kiss him. Kiss him like he was starving for it, tongue running across Mark’s teeth, tasting like the red wine they’d been drinking. Just as sweet and tart and intoxicating.

Mark’s hands fisted for his shirt, drawing him in. Their hips brushing together, making him ache to be closer. Feeling like it would never be enough.

And Jinyoung’s hand combed down, clenching at the space between Mark’s legs. As if maybe he was simply picking up where he left off in the hallway. Not hesitating, just hurrying like he was told to.

“Fuck,” Mark breathed, his hips angled upwards, trying to lean up into it.

Jinyoung smiled against his mouth, pulling back. “Shh,” he shushed. “I’ll be quick, but you gotta be quiet. Okay?”

Mark looked down at Jinyoung’s red, bitten lips, wanting to moan but he withheld, nodding instead. 

Jinyoung’s palm circled him, insistently pressing down against Mark’s jeans.

And Mark’s hips couldn’t help but thrust up into the touch, eager and clumsy and feeling the way he so easily hardened up against it. Wanting more. So much more. So he reached down, starting to unbutton his jeans, unzipping them. Grabbing Jinyoung’s wrist and sliding his hand under the waistband of his underwear. Not caring about how desperate and impatient he seemed.

He looked up, seeing the haughty smirk against Jinyoung’s swollen mouth. So smug. But he didn’t care. He needed it.

Jinyoung’s hand closed around his cock and Mark had to hold the moan in his throat, feeling it come out in heavy, distressed pants as he kicked his hips up into Jinyoung’s fist. So warm and tight around him. Wondering how something as simple as a hand could make him feel so lightheaded.

Jinyoung started to work him. Slow and steady and firm. And Mark was nearly shuddering around him, leaning his forehead onto his shoulder and screwing his eyes shut to hold himself together. Feeling himself seeping out over Jinyoung’s fingers, messy and slick and easing the slide little by little.

The man’s other hand came up, tugging Mark’s jeans and his underwear out of the way. Feeling him stare down at the sight of Mark’s cock sliding between his fist, precum squeezing out and spilling down the sides. In between his fingers and knuckles. Shining so pretty and glossy in the bathroom light. 

He heard Jinyoung pant out some Korean word. Not knowing what it meant but knowing he was just as lost in this. Feeling more encouraged to lean back a little further onto the counter, pumping himself into Jinyoung’s hand. And as that slickness continued to ease, Jinyoung’s hand picked up speed.

Mark bit into his bottom lip, closing his eyes again as he felt Jinyoung’s hand going up his shirt. Pushing it up and feeling at his torso. Every muscle tensing underneath his fingertips. Feeling so overwhelmed. Daring to look up at him and seeing the greedy way he was eying Mark. His brows knitted together, his lips parted as he breathed heavily, his wrist so eagerly twisting around him.

Mark’s words were gone. So he grabbed Jinyoung by the nape of the neck, drawing him to kiss him again. He wrapped his arms around the man’s shoulders, holding him so tight that there was nowhere else to go. Feeling how his hand just kept going, speeding up despite the clumsy thrusts of Mark’s hips. And he got closer and closer to his edge, sped along by the twist of Jinyoung’s wrist and the frictionless slide of his fingers. Thinking about those fingers everywhere. Wanting them between his lips and slicked up against his entrance and tightening around his throat and holding open his thighs and dragging his hips down. And the thought alone had him kissing Jinyoung even harder, biting down on the man’s lip as he came to keep from crying out.

Jinyoung held him tight, catching every drop of cum in his hand as he worked through it. Until Mark was collapsing against his shoulder, trying to catch his breath.

“Mark,” Jinyoung panted.

Mark opened his eyes, pulling himself up to face him.

Jinyoung’s face wasn’t the same expression it had been. Now his eyes were wide and hurt. Like they’d been in the pool after Mark had pulled away. He hesitated, “We need to talk.”

Mark sighed, sliding off the counter and fixing his jeans back together. “We need to get back,” he urged.

“Mark,” Jinyoung groaned, washing his hands, looking up at him in the mirror. “You can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what?” Mark said, looking back.

Jinyoung dried his hands on a towel. “Avoiding talking about this.”

Mark felt that guiltiness crawl up his spine. Knowing he was right. But not wanting to face it. “Let’s just get back, Jinyoung.”

When all of them wrapped up for the night, Jinyoung carried Sunny to the car, tucking her into her seat. She woke up slightly. Murmuring something about her jacket. 

“I’ll go get it,” Mark nodded.

When he came back into the house, Jackson was standing in the dark foyer, the jacket in his hand. 

“Thanks,” Mark said, coming closer. “I nearly forgot it.”

Jackson pulled it from his reach. “Just so you know,” he said. “You guys aren’t being very covert.”

Mark’s spine straightened upright. He froze for a moment before shaking it off. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“I’m married, you know,” he shrugged. “I know the signs of someone who just got off behind their kid’s back. In my house, no less.”

Mark felt the burn of his ears. Mouth rushing to some weak version of a defense. “As if you and Jaebeom haven’t drunk fucked in my house at least half a dozen times.”

Jackson’s eyebrows went up. “So, you admit it, then?”

“We didn’t-” Mark groaned. “You know what. Nevermind.”

Jackson licked his lips, handing him the jacket. “So,” he started. “Are you guys-”

“We are not anything,” Mark snatched it away, glaring at him. “Why? What has Jaebeom told you?”

Jackson huffed, “You know he’s way too loyal to tell me anything.”

And Mark did know. But he still hated where the conversation was going. “Alright,” he threw his hands. “Fine. Give it to me then. Do what you do best.”

Jackson’s eyes narrowed. “Which is?”

Mark shrugged. “Judge me.”

“Mark, please,” Jackson rolled his eyes. “I’m not trying to judge you. I’m just worried.”

“Mmhm,” he hummed, distrustful.

Jackson didn’t seem to care, just continuing anyway. “You’re playing a dangerous game,” he said. “This isn’t just some random guy that you can break up with like Youngjae. This is someone who is going to be in her life forever.”

“You think I haven’t considered that?”

Jackson’s eyes got wider, “You don’t know his intention. You don’t know if he’s playing you.”

“Why would he be?” Mark’s brows furrowed.

“To get to her.”

Mark looked at him, feeling the small nagging pain of doubt. “Your husband is saying the opposite. He trusts him.”

“He likes to see the best in people,” Jackson said. “And I love that about him. But I like to try and be more realistic. Especially when it’s to protect people I care about.”

Mark looked back up at him, staring a hole through him. “Neither of you know him though,” he said, tone venomous. “Not really.”

“But we know you,” Jackson urged. “And we don’t want to see you hurt.”

Mark looked at him. Feeling overexposed and foolish. He turned back out the door. “I’ll see you at practice, Jackson,” he said with a wave, not looking back.

\---

Mark and Jinyoung took Sunny to the park the next day. Mark abusing the fact that Jinyoung and him couldn’t talk if Sunny was there. They sat together on the park bench as she went off to play on the jungle gym.

“Hey,” Mark asked. “Can we talk?”

Jinyoung’s eyebrow raised. “Oh, so it’s only when you want to talk? I see.”

Mark sighed. “My mom wants to come for dinner tonight.”

Jinyoung fidgeted with Sunny’s stuffed panda that she’d left on the bench, folding its arms together. “Do you want me to go to Jaebeom’s house or something?”

Mark winced, staring off at where Sunny was playing. “Not exactly.” 

He told him what happened at Thanksgiving. How Sunny spoke up. How Mark lied to cover it up. How Sunny suggested Mark’s mom meet Jinyoung.

“So,” Jinyoung spoke slowly. “They think I’m your boyfriend.”

Mark’s stomach knotted. “Mhmm,” he hummed, biting at his lips. “I know it’s not ideal.”

Jinyoung was quiet, pensive.

“But,” Mark shrugged, looking over to him. “It was either that or tell them who you really are. And I wasn’t really ready for that yet. Which I hope you understand.”

Jinyoung nodded. “I do.”

“So,” Mark took a deep breath. “Are you going to help me or not?”

He put the panda down between them. “We still need to talk, Mark,” he spoke softly.

Mark averted his eyes. “I know.”

“If I do this for you, can we talk?” he asked.

Mark didn’t want to bargain with him. Especially not about this. But he wasn’t sure he had another choice. He nodded.

Jinyoung looked at him, “Then, I’ll help you.”

Mark saw the sincerity of his expression. Felt that ache of yearning for him. Like even just the foot or two of space between them on the bench was far too much. But he restrained himself. “Thank you.”

Sunny ran up to where they were sitting. “Jinyoung, can you push me on the swing?”

Jinyoung took a deep breath. “Yeah. Of course,” he nodded. “Come on.”

\---

Jinyoung came down into the kitchen that night while Mark was cooking dinner. “Are you ready?”

Mark sighed. “I think so-” he stopped. Seeing Jinyoung leaning against the counter. Dressed sharply in black trousers and a button up shirt. Mirroring a bit of the Jinyoung that had stood on his front porch months ago and told him something he didn’t want to believe.

“Is this okay?” Jinyoung asked, looking down at himself, self-conscious.

“Yeah,” Mark nodded. “It’s fine.” He looked up to his face, his eyes. Hesitating.

Jinyoung blinked. “What is it?”

Mark felt awkward. “Do you have something? I don’t know. Like a hat or something?” he asked. “To cover your eyes?”

His brows raised, “What’s wrong with my eyes?”

“They’re just… you know,” Mark shrugged, not wanting to say it. “Hers.”

Jinyoung smiled, “Actually, they’re mine.”

Mark groaned, “Jinyoung, please. I don’t want my mom figuring this out.”

“Relax. Come here,” Jinyoung slid behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist.

Mark felt all of his warmth pressed up against his back, unconsciously sinking into him. “What are you doing?”

“Practicing,” Jinyoung whispered in his ear.

“Practicing what?”

“Being your boyfriend.”

“Stop,” he whined, turning around and realizing how close he was. Stilling in his arms.

Jinyoung drew in a breath. “I can wear glasses,” he offered.

Mark nodded. “Please.”

And then they both heard the doorbell ring, followed by the scamper of Sunny’s feet down the hall. 

“She’s here!” Sunny yelled.

“Go,” Mark pushed him. “I’ll get her.”

Mark went to the front door where Sunny was already opening it.

“Grandma!”

“Sunny,” she bent down, hugging her tightly. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” she cuddled into her.

“Hey, Mom,” Mark smiled.

“Hello, my son,” she reached up, hugging him and kissing his cheek.

Sunny clung to her. “Are you here to meet Jinyoung?”

“I am,” she smiled. “Where is he?”

“I’ll go find him.”

“He’s in his room,” Mark noted, watching her run up the stairs. He turned back towards his mom. “Can you go easy on him?”

She shook her head, grimacing. “What do you mean?”

“Come on,” he rolled his eyes. “He’s not from here. Just cut him some slack.”

“Mmm,” she hummed, judgement in her tone. “You must really like him.”

And Mark still felt the imprint of Jinyoung’s warmth along his back. His arms around his waist. He nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “I do.”

“Here, he is!” Sunny called as she dragged Jinyoung by his hand down the staircase.

He was wearing his thick glasses now. And they did manage to distract from the overwhelming similarities between their faces. Letting Mark breathe easy for just a moment.

“Hello,” Jinyoung came forward, reaching out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Mark’s mom paused, taking him in for a long moment. Nearly awkward with how long everyone was still, quiet. How long Jinyoung was reaching out his hand. Before she shook it, lips pressed together in a polite smile. “You as well.”

It fell silent again. Something tense there that Mark hated stewing in. “You hungry, Mom?” he rushed to say. “Come on. Dinner should be ready any minute.”

As dinner was served, Mark tried to force Sunny to fill the dead space by talking about her school and soccer starting back up and how Bambam was settling in. But somewhere along the way, there was a beat too long that went unspoken and it was all Mark’s mom needed to slip in.

“So, Jinyoung,” she asked. “What do you do for work?”

Jinyoung was drinking water, rushing to put his glass down. 

Sunny spoke up before he could. “He’s an actor.”

“Oh, really?” her eyebrows went up, intrigued. “What do you act in?”

“I do television. Movies,” he shrugged. “Just in Korea, mostly.”

“Sounds like a big commitment,” she said, looking up with sharp eyes. “I’m surprised you are considering being based in Los Angeles for much longer.”

And Mark felt his hand tighten up around his silverware. Nearly speaking up before he felt Jinyoung’s hand on his leg under the table, reassuring him.

“It is a big commitment. It’s something I worked very hard to be able to do,” Jinyoung nodded. “But I’m taking some time off from my career to be here. Figuring out the best way to balance everything so hopefully I can spend a lot more time here in the future.”

Mark felt that hand on his leg a little warmer, not knowing if it was Jinyoung or him. Because he had never really heard him say something so intentional about the future. And he was wondering how much of it was for show and how much of it was true.

Mark’s mom leaned her elbows onto the table. “How did you two meet?”

Mark blinked, “We…” He looked over to Jinyoung, eyes going a little wider in panic.

Jinyoung looked at him, nothing panicked about him. “We just ran into each other in the neighborhood,” he turned back to Mark’s mom. “I was a tourist who somehow got lost in the suburbs and he was kind enough to help me.”

Mark breathed, “Yeah.” He smiled. “I remember.”

“And you’ve been living here? In Mark’s home?” she asked, voice heavy with judgement.

“I was just visiting before,” Jinyoung said. “So when I met Mark and extended my trip, I didn’t have a place to stay. He was kind enough to help me.” He reached out, putting his arm around Mark’s shoulder, drawing him a little closer. “I love that about him. He’s always thinking of how he can help others.”

Mark felt himself go red all the way down his neck.

“Dad,” Sunny asked, pushing her cup forward. “Can I have more drink?”

“Yeah, baby,” he nodded, reaching for it.

Jinyoung was faster, touching his hand. “I got it,” he said, grabbing the cup. “Don’t worry.”

Mark froze, Jinyoung’s touches maddening him. He tried to stay present, looking up at his mother and seeing the way she was staring back, watching him. So intently that it made him wonder if he was being just as obvious as he felt.

After dinner, they moved into the living room, Mark suggesting a board game they could play together. Sunny immediately declaring that she wanted to be on Grandma’s team and that Mark and Jinyoung could be their own team. Mark agreed, sitting next to him around the coffee table. But as the game went on, Jinyoung felt like he was getting closer. At some point, his hand came around lightly gripping at Mark’s hip. And he tried to stay focused but it was so hard when every slightest movement had him going hot all over again.

It was nearing the end and their team was ahead when Jinyoung leaned over, whispering in his ear. “You should let her win.”

Mark felt the warm tickle of his breath. He looked back at him, noting how close he was. “Okay,” he nodded.

“No secrets!” Sunny whined.

“I was just telling him that I’m not sure we can win this,” Jinyoung winked at him.

Mark smiled. Doing exactly that and letting Sunny and his mother’s team win. All of them cheering before starting to clean up the pieces.

“Sunny,” Jinyoung said, closing the game box. “Do you want to get Grandma’s gift?”

She gasped, getting up. “I’ll get it.”

“Gift?” Mark’s mom huffed. “What did you get me?”

“Just something small,” he smiled.

Sunny came back into the room. Carrying a small pot in her hands and putting it into her grandma’s lap. “It’s a pothos,” she said. “A baby one.”

Mark’s mom looked at it, face blank with confusion.

“We’ve been tending to plants together,” Jinyoung rushed to say. “It’s a hobby of mine.”

“Really?” she held up the plant, studying it. Three small leaves standing straight up from the soil.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “We replanted this clipping last week. But it seems like you’d be the perfect home for it.”

“We put a card with it,” Sunny’s hands reached out, pointing to the attached paper. “With instructions for how to care for it. I wrote it!”

Mark’s mom smiled, “You did?”

“Mmhm,” she nodded eagerly. “Jinyoung helped me.”

“Oh,” she looked back to Jinyoung. “Thank you,” she said, earnestly.

After she said her goodbyes to Sunny and Jinyoung, Mark walked her out to her car. She leaned in, putting the plant in her cup holder before turning back to him.

“Thank you for having me tonight,” she said. “It was… interesting.”

“What does that mean?”

She shrugged, “I’ve just never really seen you with a serious boyfriend before.”

Mark leaned against the car, crossing his arms over his chest. “What do you think of him?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

She hesitated, trying to find the words. “He’s… good with Sunny. Isn’t he?”

“He is,” Mark nodded. “Really good.”

“Is that all you like about him?”

Mark thought. Trying to piece his picture of Jinyoung away from just Sunny. Thinking about the way he was always friendly and helpful and clever and warm. How lonely Mark had felt when he went away. How he couldn't help himself from wanting to be closer to him whenever they weren’t in each other’s arms. Even when it seemed against his better judgement. “No,” he said, honestly. “There’s a lot to like about him.”

“I just want to make sure.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. Things have just been busy around here,” he said, but the meaning was different. Because he was still withholding the truth from her. Still lying. And things hadn’t been busy so much as they’d been complicated, in every way imaginable.

“Mark,” she sighed. “You’re an adult now. And a father, raising a wonderful girl. I shouldn’t have been so pushy about your personal life. I’m sorry for that.”

“Mom,” his shoulders sank. “It’s okay. I know you mean well.” He reached out, pulling her in for a hug.

She returned it, holding him tight in the way only a mother could. “I just want you to know that I’m here for you. And I trust you,” she said, voice choking up as she spoke. “And you can always come and talk to me when you’re ready to.”

“Okay,” he nodded, feeling the tone of the conversation go unexpectedly more serious. Struggling to understand why. “I appreciate it. I love you.”

“I love you too,” she said, sniffling as she pulled away.

“Drive safe, okay?” he said, backing away.

She nodded, “Good night, Mark.”

\---

Mark was lying in bed that night, just before sleep. And he wasn’t trying to think about it, but everytime he closed his eyes, he thought back to the little touches Jinyoung gave him. The feeling of his hand on his thigh under the table. His arm around his shoulder. His fingers gripping onto his hip. His whispered voice in his ear. His permanent smile when he looked at him.

And it made everything in him stir, that ache of yearning heightening until all he could think about was Jinyoung on the other side of the wall. That feeling of needing to be so much closer. He turned on his lamp, getting up and reaching for the door of his room. But when he opened it, he nearly walked straight into Jinyoung. Both of them stopping.

Jinyoung looked back, just as surprised. No longer wearing those thick glasses anymore.

Mark gathered himself, pushing down the rush of nerves. “Hey,” he breathed.

“Hey.”

Mark felt the tense quiet between them stretch out a moment longer before he slowly reached out, grabbing onto the front of Jinyoung’s shirt and drawing him in past the doorway, shutting it behind him. He pulled Jinyoung closer, kissing him. Feeling that satisfying melt of them coming together in the middle. Warm and sweet and steadily more familiar each time. He felt Jinyoung’s hands slide against his waist, gently holding him closer. 

Mark maneuvered him closer to his bed, sitting beside him and letting their lips come together again. He craned his head a little deeper as his mouth fell open, shuddering at the slide of Jinyoung’s tongue against his. Thinking about all those little touches and smiles that had made him feel so overwhelmed. “God,” he scoffed, grating his teeth into Jinyoung’s lip. “You were so frustrating tonight.”

He felt the spread of Jinyoung’s smile against his mouth as he started to giggle.

Mark smiled, pressing his forehead against Jinyoung’s, “Why are you laughing?” 

“You,” Jinyoung reached up, hand drawing Mark’s face closer to kiss him again.

“What about me?” Mark pulled back, looking at him.

Jinyoung shrugged, eyes bright with that laughter still present in them as they searched his face. “You liked all that stuff tonight.”

Mark furrowed his brows, “What stuff?”

Jinyoung smiled. His white teeth showing through. His nose scrunching up. “The boyfriend stuff.”

Mark felt himself flush pink at his ears. “Stop,” he groaned, drawing their faces closer again to kiss him.

Jinyoung laughed. “Fine,” he pushed away, getting up from the bed. “Have a good night then.”

“No,” Mark grabbed his waist, pulling him back down to the bed. “Don’t,” he said, reaching up to cradle his face close. “Stay.”

Jinyoung’s smile fell a little, eyes a little heavier. His hand going up to Mark’s, holding it. “Why?” he whispered.

And something in his eyes, the sudden shift of tone, made Mark feel nervous. Like there was an answer he was looking for. “Cause,” he said. “I want you to.”

Jinyoung leaned in closer, mouth hovering. “Why?”

Mark went quiet. Not knowing what to say. Because there was something more. More than just how overwhelmingly good it felt to have Jinyoung close like this. But how could he voice that? With all the fears and doubts that kept him at war with himself paralyzing him.

Jinyoung pulled away. And when he saw the look on Mark’s face, he darkened. His eyes going distant, placid. “See,” his jaw set tight. “You can’t even say it.” He got up again.

Mark watched him. Hating how much ambiguity there was in the sudden distance. Mirroring the ambiguity of his own feelings. He rushed to defend himself. “There’s nothing to say, Jinyoung.”

Jinyoung didn’t look back at him. Just straightened his clothes as he tried to leave. “If that’s how you want to act.”

“What do you mean?”

Jinyoung shrugged, “If you want to act like it’s nothing.”

And maybe for the first time, Mark was aware of exactly what he was insinuating. But he still couldn’t bring himself to say it. He held his breath. “It is nothing, Jinyoung.”

Jinyoung stopped, looking back at him. Expression downturned, growing angry. “Are you really going to sit there and try to deny what’s been happening since I got here?”

And Mark tried to breathe, but it hurt. He didn’t know what to say again. Because even alongside the instinct to deny it was the way in which every small doubt was suddenly projecting itself. Shining so much bigger and brighter than his feelings, until it was all he could see. 

“But, I mean. What if it’s just her?” Mark asked, voice small. “What if we are only seeing what we want to see in each other? How do we know it’s even real and not just some wishful thinking about what we want for her.”

His face didn’t change. “The fact that you’re even asking yourself that shows me you’re not ready for this,” he turned away.

“Jinyoung,” Mark came forward, reaching to grab his wrist. “Please,” but, like always, he didn’t know what he was pleading for.

Jinyoung shook him off, looking at him. “I’ve been trying,” he said, fists clenching. “Really trying to fit myself seamlessly into your life. Even if it means not being the one in control. Because I figured we wanted the same things.”

‘We do,” Mark gasped. “We want what’s best for Sunny, right?”

“It’s more than that,” he said firmly. Like he was sure. “It’s more than just her.”

Mark backed off again. Falling silent. Afraid. Afraid of wanting more. Afraid that want would overpower any objectivity he’d been trying to maintain about this whole thing. 

“But if you can’t see that, then I’m not going to keep doing this.”

Panic rose up Mark’s spine. “You’re going to leave?” he rushed. “Go back to Korea?”

“I’m leaving this room and going back to my own,” Jinyoung nodded, something tired in his tone. “And when I wake up tomorrow, I’m going to be here for Sunny. Not the both of you.”

And Mark let him leave this time. Having nothing more to say.

\---

Mark probably slept in a little too late the next day. Too emotionally drained and tired from a restless night of sleep. But as he came down the stairs, rubbing his eyes, he stopped.

Sunny was sitting on Jinyoung’s lap as they watched television together. His arms wrapped tight around her middle.

On the screen, Jinyoung’s face stared back in perfect clarity. A close-up of his face. In the background, a blurry falling of snow against the night sky. And Jinyoung was delivering his lines, so earnestly. Pretty eyes, glossy and bright.

While on the couch, Jinyoung was leaning his face against Sunny’s ear, whispering the Korean lines to her and making her giggle.

Mark sank down onto the step, watching from where he sat, undiscovered. Crossing his arms over his knees and leaning his chin onto them. Watching as the camera panned to a shot of his love interest. Her pretty porcelain skin and small, tender smile as she diligently listened to what Mark could only assume was a love confession of sorts.

The music in the background swelled as Jinyoung reached out his hands to her face, drawing her in with a chaste, lingering kiss. Everything moving in slow motion.

And it made Mark’s stomach sink. Because he knew exactly how it felt.

“Do you love her?” Sunny asked, looking back at him.

“What?” Jinyoung laughed, looking down at her. “No, baby,” he shook his head. “It’s just pretend. It’s just a story.”

Sunny’s face twisted up, confused. “What about when you kiss Daddy?”

Mark suddenly tensed. Even the breath in his chest seizing. Because he could not think back to a time when Sunny could possibly have seen them. And yet, somehow she had. His eyes stared, unblinking, as he tried to gauge Jinyoung’s reaction from where he sat behind him.

He couldn’t help but notice the tightness of Jinyoung’s shoulders, how that gentle laughter had fallen away to nothing but silence. And he realized that he too was just as taken off guard as Mark was.

But Sunny kept staring up at him. Waiting for his answer.

Jinyoung sighed. And when he spoke, his voice somber and low. “Yeah,” he said. “That’s just pretend, too.”

Mark’s stomach sank. Watching the way Sunny turned back towards the TV, nuzzling herself back into Jinyoung’s chest. But there was now a slump in Jinyoung’s shoulders that hadn’t been there before.

Mark felt the heaviness of guilt overwhelming him, weighing him to that step. Knowing that it was his fault. His fault that Jinyoung had given up hope in the wake of his mixed signals. His fault that Sunny had seen them together. His fault that everyone was now just as confused as he was. Living in silence, not talking about any of it. Because of him.

And he didn’t know what to do. So he carefully got up, dragging himself back upstairs and closing the door to his room again. He lay down against his bed, looking up at the ceiling. Feeling that guilt weighing him down into it. Making everything else, the confusion and the worry and the uncertainty, feel that much worse. He sighed, murmuring out the words to himself. 

“Just pretend.”


	10. Ten.

Mark could barely process that Sunny had seen Jinyoung and him kiss. It just wouldn’t add up even as he took the extra time to collect himself before coming downstairs. Playing the scene out in his head and remembering the sound of Jinyoung’s voice when he dismissed Sunny’s question. The somber way in which he spoke. As if he had lost all faith in Mark. And for that, he couldn’t blame him.

As he came down, he heard Jinyoung’s voice calling after Sunny. “Do you have everything?”

“Almost,” she piped up. “Let me grab my socks.” Followed by the scamper of her feet back towards her room.

Mark looked over, seeing him at the door. Dressed in athletic wear and tennis shoes. A soccer ball tucked underneath his arm. Watching Jinyoung’s eyes track up to him. Immediately mirroring that stoniness from the night before. 

Mark felt like cowering from it. But he pushed through, “You guys are heading off to practice?”

Jinyoung nodded, “Mhm.” 

“Okay,” he nodded, beckoning upstairs. “I’ll grab my things.”

“Mark,” Jinyoung stopped him in his tracks. “I can take her. It’s fine.”

Mark froze, quiet and looking at him. Seeing the decisive way in which he was shutting himself off, actively disengaging. It felt over the course of a single night, Jinyoung had rebuilt the walls between them that he’d been so patiently trying to dismantle these past few months. And Mark had been the one to resist for so long, that he was struggling with how much he hated those walls being there again.

Sunny came back down the hall, her cleats and socks in hand as she noticed Mark there. “Dad,” she greeted him with a smile. “Are you coming?”

Mark found it hard to look away from Jinyoung. “No,” he said, reaching down to pet her hair. “I don’t want to make Coach Jinyoung late for his first day.”

He wondered if the trace of hurt in Jinyoung’s eyes was just a trick of the midday light. 

Mark bent down to Sunny’s level, drawing her close and kissing her cheek. “I love you, baby. Be safe. Listen to Jackson and Jinyoung, okay?”

After they left, the house felt quieter than usual. Mark realized he hadn’t really had the house to himself like this since well before Jinyoung left for Korea. But now, especially after what had happened in the pool and in the hall and in the bathroom too. After the small touches of Jinyoung’s hands in front of his mother. And the kisses they had shared in his room before it dissolved into a fight. Now, it felt especially lonely. Like all of those little moments were something he had dreamed.

“So,” his mother’s voice sounded warm and comforting over the phone. Making Mark glad that she called. If anything to fill some of the quiet. “Is Sunny excited about Christmas coming up?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, leaning the phone into his shoulder as he skimmed the pool passively. “Her last day of school before break is this week.”

“What are you planning to get her?”

Mark hissed through his teeth. “I’m not really sure.”

“She hasn’t asked for anything?”

He sighed, “Nothing reasonable.”

Mark’s mom huffed, “What does she want? A pony? A Ferrari?” 

“A dog.”

“Oh, yes,” she laughed. “How could I forget.”

“Yeah, well,” Mark said, tossing the excess leaves into the bushes. “I’m sure I can get some other ideas out of her.”

“Let me know, okay?” she asked. “I’m going shopping this week. God forbid we have a repeat of last Christmas.”

“The intention was there,” Mark offered. “But, she did suggest we donate that dollhouse literally the next day.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she agreed. “I get it. She’s a daddy’s girl.”

“She’s an individual. She knows what she likes,” he argued. “Are you doing Christmas at your house this year then?”

“Actually,” her tone got more serious. “I wanted to talk to you about that.”

Mark groaned, “Don’t tell me you guys are going to Cancun again without any of us.”

“That was one time,” she scoffed. “No, actually your father and I were talking and we thought maybe we could do Christmas at your house this year.”

Mark grimaced, “Why at my house?”

“It’s something different,” she said, voice pitching higher suspiciously. “And who knows? Jinyoung might feel more comfortable meeting everyone if it’s at a familiar place.”

Mark’s grip tightened around the pole. Because he hadn’t really considered the fact that Jinyoung would inevitably be there for his family’s holiday celebrations. “Oh,” he blinked. “I see your motive here.”

“Motive?”

“You want everyone to meet Jinyoung,” he said, feeling his stomach twist at the thought of it. Because he didn’t even know where him and Jinyoung stood. But now he was going to have to be introducing him to his whole family as his… boyfriend. Even the thought was anxiety-inducing.

“Well,” she backtracked. “I mean. He’s a part of your life. He lives in your house. He’s obviously important to you. And I figured he’d be there regardless. Because, surely, he wants to spend the holiday with Sunny and you.”

She was right. Despite not knowing the truth. “Okay,” he conceded, going to sit down. “I guess we can have it here.” His mind raced with potential details to iron out. “But what about Christmas Eve? Sunny and I always sleepover with you two. We can’t just give up that tradition.”

“Mm,” she hummed, thinking. “Why don’t we just come the night before then? Around dinner time. We’ll stay in the guest bedroom.”

Mark was about to agree when he realized what that meant. “Oh.”

Her words came slower, skeptical, “Assuming that no one else is staying there.”

Fuck. Right. Jinyoung was supposed to be his boyfriend. Therefore, staying in his room. He gulped, “Of course not. Yeah, you can stay there.”

But already, he was trying to figure out how he’d explain this to Jinyoung.

\---

It was Sunny’s last day of school and Mark was about to pull out of the drop off loop when he heard someone calling out to him through his passenger window.

“Mark. Wait!”

He stopped, watching Youngjae jog up to his window and lean in. “Hey,” he smiled, pushing his glasses up his face. Still so refreshingly handsome and friendly and bright. And Mark still felt that pleasant rush of endorphins at the sight of him, but not for any other reason than he had that effect on everyone. 

“Hey,” Mark grinned. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” he nodded. “I’m glad I caught you. I wanted to give you something. Since I won’t see you again before the holiday. Here,” and through the window, he handed him a small gift bag, green tissue paper poking out of the top. 

“What is this?” Mark laughed, reaching over to get it and hold it in front of him.

Youngjae shook his head, “It’s just a little holiday goodie bag. For you and Sunny both.”

Mark suddenly felt a little awkward. “Youngjae, you didn’t have to do this,” he winced. “I mean I know we were seeing each other-”

“Mark,” Youngjae stopped him, rolling his eyes. “All the parents are getting them.”

He froze. Feeling the hot flush of red at his ears. He choked around his words. “Oh my god. I’m sorry,” he blinked. “God. I’m literally so embarrassing.”

Youngjae’s tongue ran against his teeth as he laughed at Mark’s expense. “Hey. Don’t worry about it,” he waved him away. “Oh. Also. Wanted to pass along a special message.” He pulled out an envelope, handing it over. 

Mark took it, turning it over. Seeing an address across the front to the North Pole. “What’s this?”

“Sunny’s letter to Santa. Including her very short and direct Christmas list.”

Mark’s shoulders fell. “Is she asking for a dog again?”

“I’m sorry,” Youngjae pouted, leaning in closer. “I feel like maybe this is Coco’s influence.”

“No, no,” Mark sighed. “This girl came out of the hospital loving dogs.”

“Maybe this is the year to do it,” Youngjae shrugged. “You have Jinyoung at home.”

Mark stiffened a little. Not used to him casually bringing up Jinyoung. He fumbled, trying to casually brush it off. “Well. He’s not a permanent fixture.” 

Youngjae’s face tightened in question, “How long is he planning on staying?”

Mark averted his eyes. Because he didn’t have an answer. In fact, he had the same question. “Um,” he fiddled with the air vent. “Yet to be determined.”

And maybe Youngjae could see that he was making him uncomfortable because he backed off, gathering himself from the window. “Well, regardless,” he said. “I hope you have a good holiday, Mark.”

“You too, Youngjae,” he looked up, beckoning to the bag and the letter in the passenger seat. “Thank you for these.”

“Of course,” he waved. “See you next year.”

\---

That afternoon, Mark was in the living room when Jinyoung came down the stairs. He looked up at him, noting his outfit. Pressed black dress pants and a fitted button-down. An unknotted tie hanging against his shoulders.

Jinyoung took him in with a glance, forcing a tight, polite smile.

Mark licked his lips, “What are you all dressed up for?”

Jinyoung turned away, going to the mirror in the entryway. “I have a date.”

“Oh, really?” Mark leaned his chin over the edge of the couch. “Would this be with one Miss Sunny Tuan?”

Jinyoung didn’t smile. Didn’t look. Just kept his eyes focused on his reflection as he smoothed his hair. “Mmhm.” 

Mark took in a breath, trying again. “Where are you two off to?”

Jinyoung started to tie his tie in the mirror, looping the ends around each other. “I’m taking her to the children’s theater. To see the Nutcracker play.”

“Wow,” Mark feigned awe. “Lucky girl.”

“Yup.”

His shoulders fell, seeing that same intentional disengagement from him. “So,” he sighed. “I’m guessing you’re still mad.”

“I’m not mad,” Jinyoung glanced over his shoulder towards him. 

“Sure feels like you’re mad.”

“I’m just-” Jinyoung let out a deep breath. “I’m doing what I said I would. I’m trying not to let the lines blur.”

Mark rolled his eyes, “You don’t have to be cold about it.”

Jinyoung grimaced at his reflection. “What?” he turned towards him. “Just cause I’m not giving you the chance to be all over me? Is that cold?”

Mark glared back at him. Not having the words to fight him. Because maybe he was partially right. But instead of trying to rush to the quickest defense he could find, he just got up.

“Where are you going?” Jinyoung asked.

“Upstairs,” Mark called. “I hope you two have fun tonight.”

\---

Mark waited until he had heard Jinyoung and Sunny leave. Dragging himself downstairs again and being surrounded with that same quiet as before. Hating it just the same. He tried to busy himself, getting the Christmas tree out from the garage and setting it up in the corner of the living room. Plugging the lights in and diligently checking them to make sure they all worked. But he figured Sunny would probably want to help hang the ornaments so he stopped there. Instead, leaving the house and walking himself down a few streets to knock on Jaebeom's door.

Bambam was the one to answer. “Uncle Mark?” he tilted his head to the side. “Where’s Sunny?”

Mark sighed. “She’s with Jinyoung tonight. Are your dads home?”

“Mhmm,” he nodded, pulling open the door for him. “I’ll tell them you are here.”

A little while later, Mark and Jaebeom were sitting together on the deck, clinking beer cans in the dusk light.

“You didn’t come to soccer practice,” Jaebeom noted.

Mark was quiet, taking a long swig from his can. Not looking over, but instead just staring out at the lawn.

“Ah,” Jaebeom nodded. “I figured as much,” he looked down into his beer, swirling the contents together. “So, tell me. How bad was it? The fight.”

“We didn’t fight,” Mark gritted out, not sounding very convincing. “He confronted me. And I...” his words trailed off.

“Choked?” Jaebeom’s brows raised.

Mark sighed, taking another swig. “Something like that.” 

Jaebeom sipped alongside him. Letting the silence drag on a little longer. “Aren’t you tired?” he asked. “Of the ambiguity, at least?”

Mark’s jaw was tight. “Yeah.”

Jaebeom let him stew in that. Voice soft when he spoke. “What are you going to do, Mark?”

He took another sip, finishing the can off. Getting up and grabbing another one. Popping the tab and sitting back down. He took another gulp, wiping his hand over his mouth. “I don’t know.”

“It’s not in his best interest to be with you, you know.”

Mark looked over, brows furrowing. “Why do you say that?”

Jaebeom shrugged. “He has more to lose than you do,” he said. “If it doesn’t work out, sure, you’d lose him. But he would lose both of you.”

And Mark hadn’t really considered that. Hadn’t considered how strongly Jinyoung had advocated for them despite all that he was risking. And it made Mark wonder if Jinyoung really thought it was worth it? If he really thought Mark was worth it. Worth risking everything he’d worked so hard for the past few months. Because Mark surely didn’t see himself as worth it. And that confused him.

Jaebeom took another sip, smacking his lips. “I think the biggest mistake you could make right now is assuming you’re the only one who’s afraid.”

And after that, Jaebeom didn’t press Mark to speak. Just let them sit and soak in their thoughts independently.

\---

By the time Mark came home, most of the lights were off. The house was quiet. But he stopped when he saw Jinyoung laid out on the couch scrolling through his phone, bathed in nothing but the low glimmering lights of the Christmas tree in the corner of the living room. His shirt had been untucked from his pants. The cuffs folded up his arms and the buttons open down to the middle of his chest. One hand twirling the ends of his hair as the screen illuminated his face. But as Mark came in, he looked up, letting his phone fall to his chest.

Mark watched him, maybe feeling a lingering buzz from the beers but nevertheless, having the sudden urge to crawl over the long line of his body. Kiss a straight line from the peek of skin at his chest all the way up to his mouth. But instead, he just came forward, leaning his hip against the edge of the couch. “Hey.” 

Jinyoung looked up at him, shaking himself like he had been lost in a thought. “Hey.”

Mark tried to keep his eyes trained on his face. “How was the show?”

“It was good,” Jinyoung said, voice soft and sleepy. “We had fun.” He beckoned over to the tree in the corner. “The tree looks good.”

Mark looked over, admiring it. “Yeah,” he nodded. He took a deep breath. Preparing himself. Looking back down to Jinyoung. “Do you have a moment to talk?”

Jinyoung raised a brow, “About what?”

“Christmas.”

Jinyoung’s chest fell, giving out a small breath. He nodded.

Mark came around the edge, sitting down across from him. “My family wants to celebrate here,” he started. “And my parents want to stay over on Christmas Eve.”

His brows drew together. “But where are they going to…” his voice trailed off, realizing. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Mark sighed. “It would just be one night,” he tried to say, the words sounding eerily familiar. “But. If you don’t feel comfortable, I understand. I can figure out an alternative.”

Jinyoung sat up. “No,” he shook his head. “It’s fine. It’s not a big deal.”

Mark looked at him. His mused hair and his tired shoulders slumping together. He tried not to think about sliding his hands up into his lap.

“I actually,” Jinyoung started, hesitating. “I wanted to talk to you, too.”

Mark had the thought that he’d prefer this conversation with his head in Jinyoung’s lap. Or vice versa. He wasn’t picky.

“I was thinking about gifts for her,” Jinyoung said. “And I’ve been doing a lot of research in my freetime.”

Mark’s thoughts pulled away. His head spun, comprehending his words, “What kind of research?”

Jinyoung leaned forward, passing him his phone.

Mark’s hand came up to take it, brushing fingers up against Jinyoung’s as he took it. Feeling it spread up his arm like wildfire. Wanting to drop the phone and take his hand instead. But he didn’t. He looked to the screen, scrolling down an animal shelter’s webpage. Full of pictures of happy little-“A dog?” he looked up, trying not to raise his voice.

Jinyoung rushed. “I would never have done it without your permission,” he assured him. “But I know she’s wanted one for a long time. And I thought it might be a good time to learn how to care for a pet. And she’s been tending to the plants so well. I mean, it would give her someone to play with. Someone to grow up with.” He listed off each justification.

Mark felt a little speechless. Eying the hanging tongues and shaggy fur on the screen. He tried to find the words, “It’s a lot for one little girl.”

“I know,” Jinyoung nodded. “But. I mean,” he hesitated. “I can help take care of it too.”

Mark looked up at him. Reminded of his conversation with Youngjae. “Jinyoung,” he murmured. “You’re not here forever.”

The man’s eyes were wide, hopeful. Maybe even a bit shiny in the low light. He paused, licking his lips. “But I want to be,” he said surely.

And Mark could have sworn that Jinyoung’s hands were on him, the way his skin went hot, but that wasn’t the case. No, the warm glow that spread down him was from his words alone. His mind raced, wondering if they were even talking about a dog anymore. His fingers tightened around the phone in his hand. “You can’t promise that,” he said softly. “Not with your career. Your life in Korea. Your family.”

But that hope in Jinyoung’s eyes wouldn’t die. Infecting his words as well. “I’m not saying it won’t take effort and compromise and trial and error,” he said. “I know it will. But I’m willing to do that.”

Mark swallowed. “Why?”

“Cause I want this.”

Mark went lightheaded. Overwhelmed by the connotation there. Because while the two of them kept dancing around the idea of them, this felt closer than they may have ever gotten. Even without the need to touch. Though that came, too. The sudden urge to reach out and pull Jinyoung close. To finish off those buttons, maybe trip up the staircase, into his bed. Maybe keep him there for as long as Jinyoung was suggesting.

But before he could, Jinyoung’s face shifted again. Looking down into his hands. “I don’t know what the future looks like,” he admitted, honest. “But if I can do this for her, she’ll have something from me that’s always here. Even when I can’t be.”

Mark blinked, pulling himself from his thought. Because at the end of the day, sure, there was something there that they were fumbling with how to make sense of. And it felt overwhelming and scary and immoral. But there was something bigger there as well. Sunny. And Jinyoung’s place in her life. And Mark knew that if anything, both of them agreed on that. That whatever was going on between them was insignificant in their shared goal of being there for her.

Mark drew in a deep breath. He tossed his phone back. “Okay,” he nodded.

Jinyoung’s eyes went to his face, his mouth falling open. “Okay?” he questioned.

Mark got up from the couch. “Let me go get my laptop,” he said. “We can figure this out. Together.”

\---

The following days, leading up to Christmas Eve, flew by. Sunny was home and Mark and Jinyoung were suddenly busy with her, spending time playing and getting the house and the groceries prepared for the holiday. And while the interactions between Mark and Jinyoung weren’t as heated as they were before their fight, they were certainly more comfortable than they’d been recently.

When the night of Christmas Eve came, Jinyoung was off picking up a specially reserved poodle puppy from a shelter across town when Mark’s mother and father arrived. Mark greeted them warmly, telling them Jinyoung would be back shortly before Sunny was pulling them out to the backyard to show off a new soccer move she learned from Coach Jackson.

Mark was working on dinner when Jinyoung got back home, popping into the kitchen.

“Where are they?” he asked.

Mark beckoned towards the windows. “Outside with Sunny.” He looked at him, “You acquired the package?”

Jinyoung nodded. “He’s safely at Jackson and Jaebeom’s,” he smiled. “When I last saw him, he was eating a bug from Yugyeom’s collection. Yugyeom was expectantly crying and Bambam was expectantly cracking up.”

“Oh, god,” Mark’s face blanked with dismay. The reality hitting him. “I can’t believe I’m getting a dog.”

“ _We’re_ getting a dog,” Jinyoung corrected.

Mark looked back at him, wearing an even bigger look of shock now.

Jinyoung faltered, rushing to explain. “I meant Sunny and I.”

Mark licked his lips. “Right,” he turned his attention back to the counter. “Well, you know the drill,” he sighed, reaching up into the cupboard for a stack of plates. “Time to do your job.”

“Sure.” Jinyoung came forward, his arms clasping around Mark’s middle and pulling him in.

Mark’s whole back went warm as it pressed up against Jinyoung. His body tensing from shock, slow to react. Feeling the sudden soft press at the nape of his neck and realizing it was Jinyoung kissing him there against the knot of his spine. Placing two or three more kisses there before his mouth came up to his ear, whispering deeply. “Are they looking?”

Mark couldn’t look up to see. He was too paralyzed by the overwhelming feeling of Jinyoung's lips against his skin, his warm breath in his ear. And god, it had been a while since Jinyoung had touched him like this and Mark was trying to not dissolve like sugar in his arms. His eyes stayed trained on the countertop, gulping. “Jinyoung,” he breathed. “I meant, set the table.”

Jinyoung stilled. “Oh,” he awkwardly pulled himself away. “Sorry.”

Mark looked at him, catching the embarrassment in his eyes. “It’s okay. I mean. They’ll be watching for that too. So. Probably, best to… you know.”

“Yeah,” Jinyoung nodded. “I can do that.”

\---

The night went as planned. A dinner well enjoyed by everyone. A Christmas movie playing while the lights from the tree glimmered. Everyone full and content as they grew sleepy together.

Jinyoung’s arm was around Mark’s shoulders as they watched. Sunny lay across their laps, her face nuzzling against Mark’s leg. But before the end of the movie, she had already fallen asleep. Mark reached up, squeezing Jinyoung’s hand at his shoulder and whispering, “Let me take her to bed.” He hoisted her up in his arms, walking her back to her bedroom and sitting at her bedside as he slid her between the covers.

She stirred a little, not opening her eyes, but speaking. “Dad,” she groaned, voice scratchy.

Mark smiled softly, pulling her hair away from her face. “Yes, Sunny Bunny?”

Her brows furrowed, “Why are you and Jinyoung sitting so close?”

Mark’s smile fell. Words failing him.

She kept going, speech slurring together. “Is it because Grandma and Grandpa are here? Is there not enough space?”

Mark took a deep breath. “Yeah, baby,” he said. “That’s why. Just trying to make room for everyone.”

She nestled herself deeper into the covers, pulling her stuffed animal close to her chest. “It’s nice,” she breathed. “Being close. I like it.”

And Mark didn’t mean to smile, but he could feel it spreading across his face regardless. “Should we do it more?”

“Yeah,” Sunny nodded, words failing as she fell asleep. “More.”

And Mark sat beside her, petting her hair. Feeling the slowed rise and fall of her chest. Before he felt eyes on him. He looked up to the doorway. Seeing Jinyoung leaning against the frame. His hands in his pockets. His pretty mouth drawn up in a smile.

“Your parents were crashing,” he motioned back down the hall. “They just went upstairs.”

Mark licked his lips. “Are you tired?”

Jinyoung shrugged. “Let’s finish the movie.”

And maybe by habit, when Mark and Jinyoung sat back down on the couch, it was in those same spots, close together. Jinyoung’s arm coming back around his shoulders and pulling him in.

Mark huffed a laugh. Voice so soft in the quiet of a full, sleepy house. “There’s no one watching, Jinyoung.”

He didn’t withdraw his arm. If anything, he held him even tighter. “I know.”

And Mark didn’t know what to say, so he just relinquished. Letting his head fall to Jinyoung’s chest. Feeling how warm and comforting he was. Knowing exactly why Sunny had taken a liking to laying on him like this. Thinking back to her slurred words and knowing she wasn’t the only one who liked them being close.

When the movie did end, Jinyoung turned off the television. They dragged themselves upstairs. Taking turns changing into their pajamas in the bathroom. Crawling up into each side of the bed, cognizant of keeping a space between them. Mark turned away from him, reaching up and turning off the light.

And they lay in the dark, a safe distance away. Mark facing the wall but his body still warm from the feeling of Jinyoung’s closeness. Missing it already. But he withheld, knowing it wasn’t his to have. To exploit when he felt like it.

“Jinyoung,” he spoke out into the darkness.

“Yeah?” he heard his voice from behind him. The way it reverbated letting him know that Jinyoung was laying on his back.

He gathered himself. “I wanted to apologize.”

“For?”

“You were right,” Mark said. “To draw the line between Sunny and me.”

Jinyoung was quiet. Waiting.

Mark rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. His eyes slowly adjusting in the dark. “There’s no manual here,” he said, finding it easier to speak without seeing his face. “And I’ve been trying my best to make the right decisions. But I’ve been controlling and inconsiderate. Making you ask permission for every little thing.”

Jinyoung was quiet for a long moment. “You’re her father,” he whispered. “You were being protective. I understand that.”

“I know,” Mark agreed with a sigh. “And maybe it made sense to be that way in the beginning. Because I didn’t know you. I didn’t understand your intentions. But. Now I do. And,” he struggled with saying the words. Turning towards Jinyoung. Eyes adjusted enough to watch his gaze meet his. See his eyes so big, so patient. 

Mark took a deep breath in. “I trust you. I trust you with her.”

Jinyoung’s face softened, his pretty mouth turning up.

Mark felt it stir something in him. He had that overwhelming urge to act. To leave the words unsaid and just press them together wherever he could because it was a hell of a lot easier. But he resisted, refocusing his words. “It’s strange,” he said. “Because _that_ part. The Sunny part. Used to feel so ...impossibly complicated. Like we might never get it right. But now,” he sighed. “It’s like it’s the easiest part of all of this.”

Jinyoung’s brows creased a little, “Compared to what?”

Mark licked his lips. “You and me,” he said, earnestly. Watching the man’s face hold onto that tightness. And part of Mark wanted to run and keep running. But he heard Jaebeom’s words repeat in his head. 

_I think the biggest mistake you could make right now is assuming you’re the only one who’s afraid._

Mark swallowed. “I’m scared, Jinyoung.”

“About what?” 

He felt the cave of his chest. “Everything,” he choked out.

Jinyoung turned onto his side, he reached out slowly. Grabbing onto Mark’s hand. His eyes filling with support. “Tell me.”

Mark felt Jinyoung’s fingers brush against his. All that support in his eyes mirrored in his touch. Encouraging him to keep talking. “If we do this,” he said. “Things are going to be different.” 

“How so?” he asked, almost like he knew the answer. He was just prompting Mark to say it. Because he’d spent so long not saying anything.

“I don’t know yet,” Mark shook his head. “But it will change everything. Because if it’s great,” he briefly let himself picture it. “If it’s great, it will be amazing. Perfect. But,” his expression fell again. “If it’s bad,” he shuddered at the thought. “It might ruin you and Sunny’s relationship. Forever. And I don’t know if we’ll be able to forgive ourselves for that.”

Jinyoung looked down to Mark’s hand, letting it fall back against the mattress. Fixating as his fingertips traced the lines of his open palm. “I’m scared, too.”

And though, Mark logically knew, it was reliving to hear confirmation. He watched Jinyoung’s fingers, feeling the way they tickled at each heightened nerve. “And yet…” he looked back up to him. “You want this.”

Jinyoung stopped, staring back. He nodded. “I do.”

“How?”

He paused, thinking. Mouth falling open for a moment before the words came out. “When I was young, I loved movies,” he started. “And though I dreamed of acting, I never thought I’d be able to do it. Because I was too afraid to speak in front of others. I couldn’t even read in class.”

And Mark struggled to imagine it. Because sure, there were parts about him that were reserved, quiet. But he couldn’t picture him as afraid. Not when he was always being the more confident one between the two of them.

“So I went on,” he continued. “I started college. Studied film because I figured if I couldn’t be in front of the camera, maybe I could be behind it in some capacity. Maybe writing, directing.” He paused. “But, one day, I was walking on campus and someone tried to recruit me for an acting agency.”

Mark’s eyes went wide. “What did you do?” 

“I took their card, went home, and that night, I nearly ripped it up,” he shook his head. “But when I went to do it, someone stopped me. Told me that when the desire to do something outweighs the fear of doing it, nothing can hold you back. And with that, they suggested I sleep on it.”

Mark watched his face as he spoke. Hearing him speak the phrase like it was a mantra he had tattooed somewhere deep within him.

“And the next day, I dropped out of college and signed with the agency.” 

Mark shook his head, “What changed?” 

Jinyoung shrugged. Something blatantly simple about it. “I wanted it more than I was scared of it,” he whispered. His fingers coming up, intertwining with Mark’s again. Thumb caressing against his skin. “I want _this_ more than I’m scared of it.”

The air between them went quiet, still. Full of things that weren’t words. Thoughts, emotions, ideas, dreams. And though they weren’t being voiced, they were being shared.

“Don’t rip it up,” Jinyoung whispered. He squeezed Mark’s hand again, letting it go. “Sleep on it.”

Mark felt overwhelmed. The swell of something big and full in his chest that couldn’t be contained. “Okay,” he nodded. His eyes slowly pulled away as he turned back toward the wall.

Everything fell quiet again. And Mark felt himself relaxing, falling a little closer towards sleep, before something pulled him back. A lingering question that wouldn’t hold itself back.

“Jinyoung,” he spoke softly into that darkness again. “Who was it? That stopped you? That gave you that advice?”

And the quiet stretched out for a long moment. “Sunny’s mom,” Jinyoung said. He turned away, settling himself beneath the covers. “Sleep well, Mark.”

\---

The light in Mark’s room was soft and golden behind the white curtains of his window as he opened his eyes, blinking back the brightness. His brows furrowing and his eyes squinting as he tried to adjust. He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with a much needed breath. He stretched the length of his body, twisting in the sheets and turning towards the middle of the bed. He looked over, seeing Jinyoung.

His eyes were closed and his lashes were casting shadows on his cheek. His arms tucked up under his head. His chest slowly rising and falling. The glow of his skin so radiant and warm. His face peaceful. Everything about him beautiful and ethereal and perfect.

Mark didn’t even stop to consider before he reached out, his fingers combing Jinyoung’s dark hair away before cradling his face. Sweeping over his cheekbones, grazing downward, curving under his jaw, outlining its sharp edge. His thumb coming up, dragging against Jinyoung’s mouth, the curve of his upper lip.

Jinyoung’s brows drew together, letting out a soft whimper. Tilting his face into Mark’s touch. 

Mark’s inhaled even deeper.

Jinyoung’s face tightened as his eyes fluttered open. Cheek drawing up on one side like he might pull away before his eyes blinked, looking up at Mark. Intently fixating on each other. Everything and nothing happening in the space between them as Mark’s fingers at his jaw felt the uptick of his pulse. Thrilled by the idea that he was the cause of it.

Mark edged closer, focusing downward on the pink flesh beneath his thumb. He drew in another sharp breath, hovering. Eyes flicking up to Jinyoung’s gaze. Mesmerized by the tawny brown of his irides in the warm light. Glimmering with all the optimism his tone had held the night before. Echoing those qualities that him and Sunny shared. That sparkle of hopeful curiosity that diligently searched Mark’s face. That nearly overwhelming trust he so willingly handed over. All of him so exposed in such stunning clarity that Mark felt moved, wanting to vow to never hide the intensity of his own feelings again. From himself, from Jinyoung, from the world. 

Mark’s thumb slipped to his jaw, pulling the angle of his face upward. Closer and closer. Feeling the heat radiate from his skin, his breath. Brushing their noses together. Letting his eyes close, not needing them for this part. Not needing them to close the space between their mouths. So profoundly soft and relaxed that Mark ached, wishing somewhere deep that this is how it had been from the start. This open and easy and perfect. 

Mark pulled away, looking down at Jinyoung. Seeing him blink back, eyes glimmering even brighter than before he’d kissed him. His mouth fell open, on the edge of his words. When the door of the bedroom burst open. Mark nearly jumped out of his skin as he looked up, being immediately barreled over by forty five pounds of giggling energy.

“Wake up!” Sunny squealed. “Wake up! It’s Christmas!”

“Sunny, Sunny,” Mark laughed, picking her up and sitting her in his lap. Calming the thrash of her little limbs. “Baby, relax.”

“No relax,” she shook her head. “You need to get up. There’s so much to do. Everyone will be here soon.”

“We’re up,” Mark smiled, looking over to Jinyoung. “See?”

Jinyoung’s eyes were closed again. His mouth hanging open as he let out a fake snore.

“Jinyoung,” Sunny whined, crawling off of Mark and onto him. “No more sleeping.”

“Huh?” he pretended to stir. “Mmmm, sleeptime.”

“No!” she wailed. “Dad. Help.”

Mark sat up, criss crossing his legs and wiggling his fingers midair. “Let’s get him on three. Ready?” he poised his hands over Jinyoung’s chest. “One... two… three!”

Both of them ran their fingers against Jinyoung’s body, tickling at his chest, his sides, his armpits. Jinyoung smiled, trying to push their hands away, squirming and laughing. “I’m up, I’m up,” he howled.

By the time Mark was taking pancake orders, his doorbell was ringing. His siblings and nieces coming in with arms full of wrapped gifts to place under their tree. Introducing themselves Jinyoung, who was friendly and personable even in his pajamas as he squatted down so Sunny could introduce him to her cousins. Mark’s sister came to the kitchen, helping Mark take more orders and start cooking.

“Hey,” Jinyoung came up behind him, putting a hand to his lower back as he spoke softly to him. “You got all of this?”

And something about the touch didn’t feel like an act anymore. 

Mark nodded, “Of course. Why?”

“I was going to head over to Jackson and Jaebeom’s real quick and pick something up,” he winked.

“Right,” Mark smiled, remembering what they were about to do and feeling a small stirring of nerves at the thought. “No, you go. I’ll be here.”

“Okay,” he drew him closer, putting a chaste kiss just above his ear. “I’ll be right back.”

Mark watched him leave, turning back to his sister at the stove. Watching her eyebrows raise as she scattered blueberries into discs of bubbling batter. Seeing the strong reaction play out on her face. “What?” he asked, suddenly self conscious. Feeling the blush tip his ears.

“Nothing,” she shrugged. “I just… I like him.”

Mark sighed, whisking together a bowl of eggs. Smiling down into them unconsciously. Murmuring more to himself than anyone else. “I do, too.”

Jinyoung did return just in time for presents to start being opened. Whispering in Mark’s ear that the package was secure in his office before sitting between his knees on the floor.

Mark hugged his arms around him, feeling the warmth he radiated. Wanting to bury his face into the crook of his neck, but instead settling on resting his chin against his shoulder as they watched Sunny open up a pair of new soccer cleats from her grandparents. UCLA gear and pool toys from her aunts and uncles. A baby blue instant camera from Mark. Jinyoung leaning closer to show her how to load it with film.

“Lemme take one of you and Daddy,” she said, scooching across the floor and holding the camera to her face. Waiting for Mark to hug Jinyoung closer. “Smile,” she said before letting the camera click, spitting out a white square that she held between her fingers. Watching as it processed into a picture.

And Mark kept his arms around Jinyoung’s torso as he whispered into his ear. “I think you might want to go get her present now.” 

Jinyoung leaned back, looking at him. “You think she’s ready?”

“No way,” Mark laughed. “But I can’t wait anymore.”

Jinyoung smiled, turning back towards her. “Sunny, do you like it?”

“Yeah,” she smiled. “Look,” she showed them the picture. 

Jinyoung admired it. “Wow, looks great,” he gasped. “But there is one more gift you didn’t open.”

Sunny looked up, eyes wide. “But it’s not under the tree.”

“No,” Jinyoung shook his head. “It’s in the other room. Should I go get it?”

She went still. The camera already forgotten beside her on the floor as she nodded.

Mark watched as Jinyoung stood up, disappearing into the other room. Mark’s family looked at him with questioning eyes. He held up his hands, asking them to wait and see.

Jinyoung came back out with a square box, wrapped in shiny silver wrapping paper with a red bow on top. He raised it above his head, carefully navigating his bare feet across piles of torn off paper and new toys before setting the box down in front of Sunny.

“This one is from Jinyoung,” Mark said, letting him retake his spot in front of him and settling his arms back around his waist.

Sunny stared at the box suspiciously, clearly lost on what it could be. Hesitating as she reached for the lid. She slowly pulled it off, peering inside.

Mark could see his family peer too, trying to see what it was.

Sunny dropped the lid to the side, hands going up to her cheeks. She was frozen. Staring down into the box. She stayed like this for a moment before her shoulders started to tremble.

Two fluffy paws came up to the edge of the box, a little white face peeking out. Black eyes and a black nose, peering up at Sunny. Nothing timid about him but instead, he was friendly. Trying to jump up, trying to get closer to her.

Mark looked up at his family, seeing their surprised faces curiously awaiting Sunny’s reaction. 

Sunny stayed staring, trembling more and more.

Mark’s face fell, not able to place her reaction. “Do you like him?”

Her face fell behind her hands, crumbling. Her eyes going wet immediately as the trembling became vicious sobbing. Shaking her whole body.

“Hey, hey,” Jinyoung crawled forward, removing her hands and holding her red, wet face. His tone filled with concern. “Why are you crying?”

She still shook, looking up at him. “I love him so much,” she sobbed, tears flooding her reddened cheeks. Her voice coming out in scratchy, shaky wails, “He’s so perfect.”

Jinyoung’s mouth drew up in a wide smile, starting to laugh. “Do you want to hold him?”

“Yeah,” she rubbed her fists against her eyes, trying to brush away her tears.

“Okay, sit on the couch,” Jinyoung said, letting go of her and reaching for the puppy. Pulling him out of the box and standing up. He came over to her on the couch, placing him down in her lap carefully. “Now try to sit still. He’s just a puppy.”

And the dog didn’t cower, didn’t flinch. He just put his little paws against Sunny’s chest, leaning up to lick at her salty cheeks. And Sunny just kept crying, loud and dramatic.

Mark laughed, never having seen her like this before. “How do you feel, Sunny Bunny?”

“I’m so happy,” she cried. “I love him so much,” she repeated, letting her hands pet against his curly white fur.

“This was Jinyoung’s gift,” Mark smiled. “His idea.”

She looked up at Jinyoung. “Thank you so much,” she sniffed. “He is the best gift ever.”

Jinyoung sat next to her, hand coming up to pet at her hair. “Merry First Christmas, Haeseon.”

Mark watched them, feeling his heart swell. “Sunny,” he called. “He needs a name.”

Sunny looked down at the puppy, petting him through her sniffles. “Milo,” she nodded. “I like Milo.”

Mark smiled. “Milo it is.”

“Hey,” Mark’s sister called, holding up Sunny’s camera. “I’ll take a picture. Mark, you too.”

Mark got up, sitting on Sunny’s other side. Jinyoung’s arm lacing behind her to rest against Mark’s hip, drawing him closer until they were all tightly packed together.

“Perfect,” she held the camera to her eye. “On three, smile and say ‘Merry Christmas.’ One...Two…Three.”

Mark was already smiling.

“Merry Christmas.”


	11. Eleven.

Christmas Day was well celebrated. The cousins swimming in the pool while the adults visited. Mid-day rolling into afternoon rolling into another big dinner, this time cooked by Mark’s mother. Jinyoung was everything Mark loved about him, friendly and easy-going. Not in the way that Youngjae had been. He wasn’t the one with all the funny stories, contagious energy diffusing outward. He was reserved, comfortable, actively listening before choosing precise words. And Mark could see the way people felt at ease in his presence, knowing the feeling. 

Though even if he was soothed by the easiness of his presence, he couldn’t deny the small rush at every single one of his small touches. Letting their knees brush or slinging an arm around his shoulders or pulling at his hand. The consistent way in which he’d venture out to play with the kids or ask Mark’s mom if she needed help or pick up Milo, but always find his way back to Mark’s side. Always. 

After dinner, the party retired with sleeping children in tow. Mark and Sunny themselves falling asleep on the couch with Milo curled up next to them, the puppy tuckered out from a day of being fawned over and chased by little ones.

But when Mark woke up, the house was dark. And he was alone on the couch. No Sunny or Milo in sight. He looked up, seeing the light on upstairs and rousing himself slowly. Coming up to his bedroom where the lights were spilling from.

Jinyoung was on the floor, zipping his luggage back together. He stopped, noticing Mark. Mouth tugging in a smile so soft and precious that it made Mark’s chest swell.

“I wanted to let you sleep,” he said. “It was a long day.”

“And her?”

“Asleep with Milo in her room.”

Mark came further in. “What are you doing?” 

Jinyoung finished zipping up his luggage, starting to stand. “Moving my things back into my room.”

Mark leaned up against the wall, head falling back to stare down his nose at him. “You don’t have to,” he shrugged. “You could stay.”

Jinyoung fought a reluctant smile, until a hint of concern sparked against his features. Dulling the brightness of his eyes and taking him somewhere else. “Mark,” he said, voice quiet. “Sunny knows.”

Mark stilled. Remembering. “I know,” he nodded. “I heard you talking to her.”

Jinyoung shook his head, crossing the room towards him in slow steps, “That doesn’t sit well with me.”

“Me neither,” Mark agreed. He reached forward, drawing Jinyoung in by his waist, “Soon. I’ll talk to her.”

Jinyoung let himself be pulled, but he was still holding onto that worry. “Do you know how?”

Mark went quiet. Staring at him. Unsure.

Jinyoung drew in a breath, putting his hands to Mark’s chest. Creating a breadth of space. “Perhaps, we should just take things slow,” he said. “Considering the circumstances.”

Mark wanted to draw him close again. Wanted to be greedy. To let himself have the thing he’d restrained from having for so long. His eyes fixated down on Jinyoung’s mouth, fighting the urge to return to it. Remembering how sweetly it had felt that morning. “How slow?” 

Jinyoung’s mouth smiled. Like he knew exactly what Mark was hinting at. “Talk to Sunny,” he said, voice so warm and close, like his body.

Mark couldn’t help himself, drawing Jinyoung a little further towards him. Feeling less fight in him now. “And then?” he murmured.

“And then,” Jinyoung laughed. “We’ll go out. Properly.”

“On a date?”

“Mhmm,” he nodded.

Mark’s hand slid up towards the nape of his neck, gently grazing against the neat black. He smiled, “Will you let me kiss you on this one?”

Jinyoung’s mouth went wider, perfect white smile making Mark’s stomach flip when it wore into his lower lip. “I would have let you kiss me on the last one,” he whispered.

Mark’s fingers eased his face closer. “Well, we’ll have to make up for that, won’t we?” His lips met Jinyoung’s, kissing him softly. Intent on pushing further when he heard a voice.

“Dad.”

Jinyoung pulled back, stumbling three steps away before Sunny peeked her head into the room. Milo held haphazardly in her arms.

Mark let go of his tense shoulders, going to her. Squatting down, “What’s wrong, baby?”

“I need help,” she said, rubbing an eye and hoisting the puppy a little higher. “Milo won’t stop crying.”

Mark sighed. He nodded. “Okay. Let’s-”

“I’ll take care of it,” Jinyoung said, coming to pat Mark’s shoulder. “Go to sleep, Mark.” He cast an apologetic look over his shoulder as him and Sunny left.

“I don’t understand,” Sunny murmured, looking up at him. “Why’s he crying?”

“He’s just a baby, Sunny,” Mark heard Jinyoung reply. “This is all new to him.”

And Mark sighed again, falling back against the floor and understanding exactly how Milo felt.

\---

Mark kept trying to find the right time to talk to Sunny, but it never seemed to come. And while he firmly believed in being transparent with her, he couldn’t help but feel at a loss for words everytime the moment seemed right. Imagining himself saying the wrong thing. Trying to anticipate her reaction, her questions. Because, although he’d spent every night combing the internet, he could never find an article on how to describe to your child that your live-in ‘friend’ had become more. Especially considering that Sunny had never even seen him in a relationship, let alone _living_ with a boyfriend. And Mark felt so overwhelmed by the uncertainty of it that it was enough to keep him from bringing it up.

In the meantime, Jinyoung kept his distance. So much so that Mark was starting to think he was taunting him. And Mark didn’t just want that date, he wanted all of it, all of him. And every passing glance and subtle touch of Jinyoung’s hands only heightened that want. Even posing the idea of a sleepover at Yugyeom and Bambam’s to Sunny, hoping it would give Jinyoung and him the much needed excuse to be alone together. But somehow, that plan totally backfired when Sunny brought up the fact that Mark had promised they could host the next sleepover. And while it was exactly the opposite of what he’d been trying for, he couldn’t deny the fact that she was right.

So the boys came over. The kids and dads and Milo playing together until dinner came and went and slipped into dessert which consisted of messy sundae making. And as soon as bowls had been emptied and mouths had been wiped, Sunny asked if they could go practice their cartwheels in the backyard which Mark allowed, surveying the overwhelming mess they had left behind. Together, him and Jinyoung started to clean up, collecting bowls and wiping down counters.

Jinyoung reached for the carton of vanilla ice cream. “Ugh,” he groaned, dropping it. His face drew up in disgust as the melted white goop dripped down his fingers. “How did they manage to get it on everything?” He reached for a kitchen towel.

Mark smiled, grabbing his wrist before he could make it there. He felt the stiff tension travel up Jinyoung’s arm, watching him look back with wide eyes before Mark slowly brought the hand to his mouth, tongue peeking out to languidly lap at the sweet beads on his palm before they could fall. Watching Jinyoung tense even more as he eyed the way Mark’s tongue moved against his skin.

Mark licked a trail up to his sticky fingers, dragging the tip of one against his lower lip before gradually taking it in his mouth. Lips working around it, sucking it deeper.

Jinyoung gulped, eyes going out of focus. “D-did you talk to her yet?” he murmured low.

Mark huffed, smiling teeth grating against his knuckle. “Not yet,” he spoke around it.

Jinyoung licked his lips, unblinking. “What’s taking you so long?”

“I’m just… you know,” Mark took the finger down further, letting his lips meet the base and not mistaking the upward twitch of Jinyoung’s eyebrows. He drew his mouth back, tongue running against the pad. Feeling the hot pulse of it. “Waiting. For the right-”

But that was as far as he got before Jinyoung was pulling his hand away, eagerly replacing it with his mouth. His sticky hands gripping around Mark’s neck, holding him close as he slid his tongue between his open lips. Drawing out all that sweetness.

Mark's head rushed, dizzied as he felt the tightness of his own mouth smiling through the kiss. Biting into Jinyoung’s lip and hearing him groan. Feeling the rush of confidence peak as he reached his hands around Jinyoung’s strong thighs, straining to lift him onto the counter before slotting between his knees. 

Jinyoung’s hands fitted up into his hair, lightly tugging as he kissed him.

And even through his dizziness, Mark was trying to determine just how much time they had. Maybe they could take this to the office. The bedroom. If they locked the door. Surely, that wouldn’t be the worst thing they could do. That wouldn’t make him the worst dad. Would it?

Jinyoung suddenly pulled away. “Did you hear that?” he panted, leaning his forehead against Mark’s.

“Hear what?” he asked, still stuck on his prior thought.

“The kids,” he looked up, craning his head back towards the yard. “I heard a shout.”

Mark’s hand reached up, pulling the man’s chin back, “I’m sure they are just playing.” He tried to close the space between them again.

“Mark,” Jinyoung said, firmly pulling away from his grasp.

“What?” he whined, shoulders falling. “It’s nothing.”

The look on Jinyoung’s face was thoroughly unconvinced, nervous. “I am going to go check,” he slid off the counter.

Mark sighed, trying to shake off the rush of his body before following behind. Both of them going out to the backyard. Milo ran up to Mark, jumping up at his ankles. “Yes, yes. I see you,” he sighed, picking him up.

“Sunny,” he heard Jinyoung’s voice call out. “What happened?”

Mark looked up, seeing Sunny and Bambam standing over Yugyeom who sat on the ground. His little face screwed up in anguish, clutching his arm. 

Sunny’s wide eyes lifted. Her mouth gaping for a moment. “W-we were just playing,” she shook her head. “He fell.”

Jinyoung bent down to him, asking questions softly in Korean. Watching as Yugyeom looked up, eyes big and timid. Stuttering out a few responses. Jinyoung grabbed his arm, holding his wrist in his hand, thumbs gently feeling it. More questions.

“What’s he saying?” Mark asked.

“He said it doesn’t hurt that bad,” Sunny piped up, reaching her arms out to take Milo back.

Jinyoung reached forward, drawing the boy up into his arms. “Let’s get him some ice. You two,” he nodded to Sunny and Bam. “Stay out here.” 

Mark followed him back into the kitchen, watching him sit Yugyeom where he’d just been on the counter. He touched his shoulder. “I’ll do it,” he said, going to the fridge. 

Jinyoung leaned up against the fridge, crossing his arms over his chest and wearing a far too specific expression across his face as he stared Mark down.

Mark sighed. “What?” he murmured.

Jinyoung spoke low enough for Yugyeom not to hear. “I think you should take him to get an x-ray.”

Mark rolled his eyes. “Jinyoung. He’s fine,” he looked over his shoulder at the boy on the counter. Watching as he held his wrist up to his eyes. “Look. He’s not even crying.” 

Jinyoung shook his head, “That doesn’t mean something isn’t wrong.” 

“I think you’re being paranoid,” he said, bluntly.

Jinyoung’s eyes went soft. “Please,” he begged. “For my peace of mind. Even just call his dads. Let them know.”

“I’m not calling them at this hour,” Mark said, firmly. “Not when it’s probably nothing. You know Jackson would flip.”

“Am I in trouble?” Yugyeom asked from his spot on the counter.

“No,” Mark called to him. “Don’t worry. You’re not in trouble.” 

Jinyoung bit his lips nervously. “Come on, Mark,” he whispered. “Can you trust me on this?”

Mark looked up into his eyes. Seeing that overwhelming softness of his quiet begging. Realizing, maybe too late, that those eyes could convince him of far more than just this. Not knowing if that was a good thing or a bad thing. But willing himself not to think about it now. “Fine,” he nodded. “I’ll take him.”

\---

Two hours later, Mark and Yugyeom were sitting in the waiting room of the emergency wing. Yugyeom was diligently holding his arm out, as his neon orange arm cast was still curing, when Jackson rushed in, followed by Jaebeom.

“My baby,” Jackson gasped, eyes going down to the cast as he fell to his knees in front of his son. “Are you okay?” he asked, hand brushing his bangs away.

“Mmhm,” Yugyeom hummed, nodding. Eyes blurry. Swaying slightly in his chair. “I’m okay, Baba.”

Jaebeom leaned against Jackson’s shoulders. “Are you in pain?” he furrowed his brow.

“Nope,” Yugyeom smiled, something dopey in it. He yawned, “Just sleepy. So, so sleepy, Appa.”

Jaebeom looked over to Mark, questioning.

“They gave him some pain meds,” Mark explained. “For the inflammation.”

“Jinyoung saved me,” Yugyeom’s eyes widened. “He saved my life.”

“Well,” Mark rushed to correct. “Not exactly. He just insisted we go get an x-ray.”

Yugyeom’s words slurred when he spoke, “The doctor said if I hadn’t gotten it taken care of now, I might have broken it worse. And then I would have needed surgery. Isn’t that silly?”

Jackson exhaled, trying to calm himself. Petting his hair. “Very silly, baby.”

Yugyeom giggled. “Good thing Jinyoung saved my life.”

Jackson looked up to his husband, rolling his eyes slightly.

“Alright, Yuggie,” Jaebeom sighed. “Why don’t we get you home? It’s late.”

His little face scrunched, “No more sleep over?”

“No,” Jaebeom picked him up carefully, avoiding his wrist. “No more sleep over tonight. There’s been enough excitement to last your Baba’s whole lifetime.”

“No fun,” he whimpered, settling his heavy head on Jaebeom’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I know,” Jaebeom smiled to himself. He turned Yugyeom towards Mark. “Say thank you to Uncle Mark for taking care of you.”

“Thank you, Uncle Mark,” he smiled. “I love you. I love Sunny.”

“Love you, too, bub,” Mark reached forward, pinching his cheek. “Sleep tight.” He waved as Jaebeom started taking him out towards the car.

Jackson grabbed Mark’s arm, drawing him in to hug him close. “Thank you so much,” he said, face buried in his neck.

Mark stiffened in his embrace. “You aren’t mad?”

“No,” Jackson shook his head. “It was an accident. It could have easily happened at our place.”

Mark’s hands came up slowly, patting his back. “You’d do the same for Sunny.”

Jackson drew away, still gripping his shoulders. “Were you serious though?” he asked, eyes intent. “Jinyoung was the one to suggest bringing him in?”

Mark smiled, shrugging, “To be honest, I was just going to give him some ice and tell him to shake it off.”

Jackson’s mouth flattened in a thin line, unimpressed. “Well, regardless.”

“It wouldn’t kill you to thank him, you know.”

Jackson scoffed, “It might.”

“Stop,” Mark pushed at his shoulder. “I should be getting home. It’s late.”

“Tell Sunny I said hi,” he smiled.

“And Jinyoung?” Mark asked, raising an eyebrow.

Jackson rolled his eyes. “Tell him I’ll see him at the soccer game next week.”

By the time Mark came home, it was nearly midnight. The house was quiet, dark. He went down the hall, peeking in to see Sunny and Bambam and Milo curled up on sprawling pillows and blankets on the floor of her room before softly closing the door. He went upstairs, seeing the light on in Jinyoung’s room. He carefully pushed the door open, seeing Jinyoung curled up in bed. He was fast asleep, some Korean novel still tucked between his fingers.

Mark smiled as he came in, slipping the book out of his hand and putting it on the bedside table. He flicked off the lamp before sliding under the covers alongside him. Wrapping an arm around his middle and pulling him close. Kissing at his shoulder through the t-shirt he was wearing. Feeling the way his body reacted, nestling further back into him with a whimper. His hand grabbing Mark’s arm to pull it closer. 

And Mark hadn’t really intended to stay but Jinyoung was so warm and holding his arm so tightly against him that all it made him want to do was melt into him. He took a deep breath, eyes closing, as he allowed himself this small indulgence.

\---

It wasn’t till the first day of school back that Mark had a proper minute alone with Sunny. And driving her to Yugyeom and Bambam’s house for carpool, only briefly making eye contact with her in the rearview, seemed as good a time as any to bring up the topic that had been weighing heavier and heavier on his chest.

“Hey, Sunny?”

“Yeah,” she looked up at him.

“What do you think-” he bit at his lips. “About Jinyoung?”

Her face went blank, almost confused. “I love Jinyoung.”

“Why do you love him?” 

She thought for a moment. “He takes care of me. He plays with me. He teaches me new things. He’s always nice.”

Mark nodded. “I like those things about him, too,” he agreed. He took a deep breath. “You know he’s daddy’s friend, right?”

“Mhmm,” she hummed. “Like Yugyeom is my friend.”

“Well,” Mark tilted his head, fingers stretching nervously against the wheel. “What if he became more than just my friend? More than you and Yugyeom?”

She was quiet. “What do you mean?”

Mark sighed, knowing he was going to have to be clearer than this. “You saw Daddy kiss Jinyoung, right?”

Her eyes widened. “Am I in trouble?”

“No,” Mark shook his head. “Just… well. Daddy kissed him because he really likes him. More than just friends.”

“Like Uncle Jackson and Uncle Jaebeom?” her face screwed.

Mark’s mouth fell open, thinking. “Kind of,” he settled on.

She perked up, “Does that mean that I’ll have two daddies like Yugyeom and Bambam?”

“No,” Mark rushed to say. “No. Just… just the one. Just me.” He gritted his teeth. “Like,” he sighed again. “Maybe like Daddy’s ...boyfriend?” And he hated the way the word sounded in his mouth. Cause what did it even mean to her? She’d never known a boyfriend in her life.

“But Daddy’s never had a boyfriend?”

“I know,” he said. “But I really like Jinyoung. So I was thinking maybe he would make a good one. Do you agree?”

Sunny’s face was still confused. “Will things be different?”

“No,” Mark shook his head. “Well. Maybe I will kiss him sometimes. Because I like to show him that I like him and that I’m grateful for him.”

“Uhuh,” she nodded, listening.

“And,” he wrung his hands against the steering wheel. “Jinyoung might stop sleeping in the guest bedroom. And maybe instead he will sleep in my room. Because I _really_ like spending time with him. Just like you like sleeping with Milo.”

She was quiet for a moment. “Is that it?”

“Yeah,” Mark nodded. “That’s it. How does that sound?”

Sunny thought for a longer moment. “I think Jinyoung will make a good boyfriend.”

He let go of a breath, feeling the relief that flooded in its place. “Me too,” he said, pulling into Jackson and Jaebeom’s driveway. “Now, go get your friends for school.”

\---

With the conversation with Sunny out of the way, Mark and Jinyoung finally agreed to move forward with their date. And the timing seemed right when Jackson invited Sunny to sleep over the night before the first soccer game, promising a night of carb loading and productive sleep in preparation. Jinyoung had made reservations at a restaurant he wanted to take him to and found an art walk nearby for them to check out together. And truly Mark couldn’t think of a better evening.

Jinyoung was dropping Sunny off at Jackson and Jaebeom’s as Mark finished getting ready. Taking every extra effort to dress a little nicer, smell a little better, excited by the idea of having someone to do it for. He was almost done getting ready when he got a text, expecting it to be Jinyoung in the driveway, ready to go. But it wasn’t. Instead, it was Youngjae.

_Are you still coming tonight?_

Mark looked at the clock, the date. Realizing all at once that he was supposed to have a meeting with Mr. Choi tonight. He felt the sudden rush of uneasiness. Feeling immediately like some kind of failure for forgetting. Typing back quickly.

_I’m so sorry. I’m just running late. I’ll be there as soon as I can._

And just then, he heard Jinyoung coming in. He rushed down the stairs.

“You ready?” Jinyoung asked with a smile. Looking just as dashingly handsome as ever in his best clothes and styled hair.

Mark’s stomach sank at the sight of him. Not knowing what to say. “I’m so sorry.”

Jinyoung’s eyes widened. “What’s wrong?”

“I-” Mark stammered. “I have a meeting with Youngjae. I totally forgot about it. I’m so sorry.”

And Jinyoung’s shoulders dropped in disappointment. 

“I know,” Mark rushed forward, reaching for his waist. “I know. Let me just,” he sighed, frustrated. “I’ll try to get out as quick as I can.”

And the defeat across Jinyoung’s face was clear, even when he tried to shake it off. “Go,” he urged, putting the car keys in his hand. “She’s more important.”

“Maybe-,” Mark tried to think. “Maybe you could see if they have a later reservation open. I’m sure it won’t be too long.”

Jinyoung nodded, “I’ll try. Go.”

Mark rushed to the school, finding Youngjae’s classroom much like the last meeting they had. Dark and quiet with just the two of them alone. “Hey,” he panted. “Sorry about that. I hope you weren’t waiting too long.”

“Not too long,” Youngjae shook his head. “Come, sit,” he pat the chair next to him at the small desks, eying Mark up and down as he sat. “You look nice. What’s the special occasion?”

Mark felt the slight flutter of the compliment, mouth stretching into a polite smile. “Nothing,” he said softly, hands crossing over his lap.

Youngjae leaned forward into his hand. “I heard Sunny got her dog.”

Mark readjusted himself again, eyes averting down into his hands. “She did,” he nodded.

Youngjae’s face fell a little, brows folding together. “Are you okay?”

Mark looked up at him. “Yeah, why?”

Youngjae licked his lips. “I just…” he took a breath. “Are you in a rush to be somewhere?” he narrowed his eyes.

Mark’s stomach turned, wondering what he was seeing. Feeling the need to hide. “No,” he shook his head. “No, I’m-”

“Cause if you have to go…” Youngjae’s brow raised, words trailing off.

“Youngjae,” Mark huffed. “It’s fine. I’m here. Let’s talk.”

Youngjae seemed cautious but proceeded anyway, filling Mark in about all the upcoming notices. The lessons they’d be covering in the second half of the year, the holidays coming up, the class play they’d start practicing for soon. Talking about how Sunny was progressing in her studies, growing in her abilities, despite a few small, but well-intentioned behavioral run-ins the past week when choice students teased Yugyeom’s cast. Wrapping up their talk on a positive note.

“She’s really diligent with other students. Anticipating their needs and offering them support. I can always count on her to be helpful.”

“That’s wonderful,” Mark nodded, sneaking another glance at his watch when he felt like Youngjae wasn’t looking. “Is that all then?”

“Yep,” Youngjae said, holding something back in his tone that Mark didn’t have time to register.

Mark started to stand, collecting the handouts he’d been given. “Well, thank you again. I’m sorry about being late.”

“It’s fine, Mark,” he shook his head, watching him. He took in a quick breath, “Hey. I know it’s probably none of my business,” he started. “But. Well.”

Mark froze, hearing the hesitancy in tone.

Youngjae blinked, trying to start again. “I heard Sunny talking today with Bambam,” he admitted. “She said that Jinyoung is more than your friend now. That-” he winced. “He’s going to start sleeping in your room? Just like Milo sleeps with her. Is that true?”

Mark’s stomach dropped. Mouth falling open, at a loss for words. His mind raced. Trying to find some excuse, but there was no convenient way around the truth. “Yeah,” he admitted with a sigh. “It’s true.”

Youngjae’s brow raised, a hint of disdain pulling at his features. “So, is there anything you’d like to tell me?”

Mark grimaced, “What do you mean?”

“Well, you literally broke up with me because you said things were too complicated for a relationship.”

Mark didn’t think his stomach could sink any lower, but he was proven wrong. Feeling the guiltiness flood into its place. Heavy and sour. “I mean,” his hand went to his neck, trying to calm the sudden flush. “I wasn’t lying,” he said, softly. “Things just ...happened. A lot has been happening.”

Youngjae had his next question poised, aimed. “Was this going on when we were seeing each other?”

“No,” Mark took a step back, feeling the blow of it. “Youngjae. I wouldn’t have done that to you.”

“It just doesn’t add up,” the teacher shrugged. “The timeline. Your reasoning.”

“I know,” Mark said. “But I promise. It wasn’t like that. Jinyoung was the one to encourage me to ask you out. He even took me on a practice date because I was so-” he stopped, words hanging off in the air. Seeing the way Youngjae’s eyes went a little wider. His chest fell, “I’m not helping my case, am I?”

“Not really,” Youngjae breathed, face looking exasperated.

Mark’s hands fisted, frustrated and desperate to clear his name. To make this right. “Nothing happened with him until we had broken up,” he spoke clearly.

“Even so,” Youngjae rolled his eyes. “Now?”

“Now?” Mark questioned.

“Is it just cause he’s her birth dad? Are you just trying to play out this vision of a household for her?”

Mark blinked, cowering slightly under the weight of Youngjae’s gaze. “No,” he shook his head. “It’s more than that. It’s more than just her.” But now, there was something a little less firm in his voice. He tried to rouse his strength again. “Youngjae,” he said. “I had a wonderful time getting to know you. Truly. And I’m sorry the way these events played out. I didn’t expect them to. It just happened.”

The teacher was silent, fiddling a pen between his fingers, eyes downcast.

Mark sighed. “Please, don’t hate me,” he pleaded. “I respect you far too much for that.”

“I don’t hate you,” Youngjae finally said. “I just… it sucks. Cause I guess I was holding onto a shred of hope that maybe somewhere down the line, we could have tried again.”

Mark didn’t know what to say. Because now, more than ever, he knew that wasn’t the case. He knew his feelings for Jinyoung were too strong for that to even be a possibility. “I’m sorry,” he said, earnestly.

“It’s okay,” Youngjae looked up to him, forcing a smile. “It’s like I tell kids all the time. No point in holding grudges.”

Mark sighed, no longer having those same romantic feelings for him but seeing all the things he’d liked about him just the same. Appreciating him more than anything. “I hope you have a good night, Youngjae,” he waved. “I’ll see you around.”

\---

Mark looked at his watch as he walked up the driveway, sighing when he saw how late it already was. Not expecting his meeting with Youngjae to last so long. Not having expected to be met with that confrontation. Already feeling so exhausted by it as he came in. “Jinyoung,” he shouted.

“I’m in here,” he heard him call, following his voice. Passing the dark living room and walking into the kitchen. 

Jinyoung was sitting at the kitchen table where a candle burned between two perfectly arranged plates. Both, with generous helping of food and glasses of wine to the side. The glass closer to Jinyoung perhaps a little bit more empty already as the man sat quietly, watching for Mark’s reaction.

Mark blinked, feeling the tug of his smile. “What is this?” he huffed, coming closer.

“It was getting late,” Jinyoung said. “So, I just decided to order delivery instead. I hope that’s okay.”

Mark sat down next to him, eyeing the food. “It’s perfect,” he said softly, reaching out and grabbing his hand. “Thank you.”

Jinyoung smiled. “I just figured we could at least have a night in, right? Afterall, I think we’ve earned it.”

Mark nodded, “We have.”

“Good,” Jinyoung took his wine glass in his hand. “Then, let’s toast.”

“To what?” Mark grinned, grabbing his glass.

Jinyoung sighed, thinking. “To getting things right.”

“To getting things right,” Mark repeated, clinking their glasses and taking a sip. Feeling the sudden growl of his stomach. “Now, can I please eat? I’m starving.”

They enjoyed the meal together, chatting and laughing and sipping and cutting off bites for each other. Mark making fun of Jinyoung’s makeshift use of Sunny’s leftover birthday candle. Something about the banter just the same as it had always been but also totally different now. Knowing that this time was intentional. Not just a crashing of two hopeless souls trying to make the best out of an odd situation, but something more.

They finished their meal. Finished their wine. The candle having burned out already as they kept looking at each other. Their words running shorter as their eyes lingered longer. 

“So,” Jinyoung finally said, fingertip tracing the edge of his glass. “We should probably head to the art walk.”

“Jinyoung,” Mark huffed, looking over at the clock on the stove and seeing how late it had gotten. Even just the time they spent talking flying by. “There’s no way it’s still open.”

“No,” Jinyoung looked away, shy in the low light. “Our own personal art walk.”

Mark’s head tilted in confusion. “What do you…?”

Jinyoung stood up, “Come on.” He offered his hand. 

Mark didn’t hesitate to take it, letting himself be led to the living room.

Jinyoung reached for the switch, flicking the lights on. And the living room didn’t look all that different. In fact, it was so close to normal that it took Mark a second to notice the walls, the mantle, the glass doors overlooking the pool, covered in taped up sheets of white paper. Messy crayon and marker and paint concoctions in a rainbow of colors. Sunny’s drawings.

“It’s a gallery,” Jinyoung said. “Of our favorite artist’s work.”

Mark stared, losing his words. He shook his head. Overwhelmed. Heart swelling in his chest. “This is so...” he couldn’t find the right word. Sweet? Thoughtful? Considerate? Wholesome? None of those seemed to do it justice.

Jinyoung didn’t wait for him to find the right one. Instead, just tugged his hand. “Let’s go look at the art.”

They came up to the first picture, taped up to the glass doorwall. A smattering of green finger paint with bright pink thumbprints. An attempt at a black outline and crooked lines jutting out everywhere. 

“To me,” Jinyoung touched his chin, furrowing his brow. “This one speaks to the duality of nature, right? The bright colors with the black. Maybe it’s symbolic of life and death.”

“Perhaps,” Mark nodded, playing along. “Though as you will notice,” he leaned forward, pointing to a pink paw mark in the corner. “This one is a collaborative piece.”

“Ah,” Jinyoung nodded. “You’re right. Interspecies art. Fascinating.”

“Wait a minute,” Mark stared a little harder. He reached forward, pulling the picture off the doorwall and turning it upside down. “Oh,” he said, sticking it back to the glass. “It’s a cactus.”

“Oh my god,” Jinyoung burst out laughing. “I had no idea.”

And they continued like this, walking themselves slowly around the room and making commentary on the art, finding their own interpretations, trying to understand who each of her people-like or animal-like figures were. Until they came to the last one and the meaning was clear.

“I remember this one,” Mark smiled. Staring at the three figures. Sunny in her yellow and green outfit, black braids down her shoulders. Mark towering over her in his UCLA gear, a boxy smile across his face. Jinyoung at his side, the lines he and Sunny shared near his eyes.

Jinyoung wrapped his arms around Mark’s shoulders, nuzzling his nose behind his ear. “It’s us?”

“Mhmm,” Mark reached up, clutching his arm. “This is when she told me she liked you better than Youngjae,” he huffed. “The nerve of that kid.”

“She said that?” Jinyoung lifted his chin in surprise. “Why?”

Mark shrugged, looking at the black rectangles she had etched into his face. “She said I have a special smile for you.”

“Do you?”

Mark looked back at him. Seeing how close his face was. Feeling the unconscious pull of his mouth. As if his own body was proving Sunny’s point. “I guess.”

Jinyoung’s own smile grew, chin settling back down on Mark’s shoulder to look at the picture. “Well,” he said. “This one is my favorite.” 

“Mine, too,” Mark looked to it. He gripped his arm a little tighter, feeling the unconscious sink of his stomach at the mention of Youngjae. “Jinyoung,” he turned in his arms, facing him. “I’m sorry about the meeting tonight. Things have been so hectic lately.” 

“Mark,” Jinyoung shook his head. “It’s okay. We know what comes first.” He smoothed his hands down Mark’s shoulders, soothing him. “How was the meeting?”

Mark suddenly remembered, like the dull throb of a headache. “It was fine,” he started, massaging his temple. “Until he mentioned that Sunny spilled the beans about us.”

“What?” Jinyoung’s hands stilled. “Was he upset?”

“A little,” Mark admitted. “Reasonably so. I mean. I wasn’t exactly the most forthcoming with him about everything.” 

Jinyoung's arms came back around him, hugging him tighter. “Like what?”

Mark sighed, turning back to look at Sunny’s picture on the wall. “Like the handsome man staying in my house and swimming in my pool and being cute with my daughter.”

Jinyoung chuckled low in his ear. “I guess you’re right,” he said, bringing his face closer. “Not like you were any better though,” he murmured, kissing into his neck. “Staying over at his place for the night. Coming home all flushed and perky,” he scoffed in his ear. “So frustrating.”

Mark felt the hot breath against his ear send a straight line of want to his core, making the hair on his neck stand at attention. “You were worse,” he sunk back into Jinyoung, head rolling back on his shoulder. “So, so much worse.”

“Oh, yeah?” Jinyoung kissed into his ear. “Show me how frustrating I was.”

Mark felt his words, even hotter, sink even deeper into him, lower. Turning to face him, touch his face. Taking in his handsomeness for only a moment before he was pulling him close enough to kiss.

It was intense, the way they opened up immediately. Sliding and craning and grasping at each other in long fluid movements. But Mark was so tired of holding back. Because of conversations not had or kids in the next room or excuses in their heads. So he just felt himself letting all that buried want take over, like Jinyoung was some wide open ocean he was willingly diving into.

Jinyoung grabbed his waist, pulling him firmly but he must have stepped back because, in an instant, he was fumbling backwards, over the edge of the coffee table, and landing on the carpet below.

“Oh my god,” Mark gasped, falling to his knees. “Are you okay?” he reached out, wrapping a hand behind his head.

“Yeah,” Jinyoung laughed, raising up on his elbows. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

Mark checked around his head, maybe some of that lingering paternal instinct showing through. “Are you sure?”

“Mark,” Jinyoung’s laugh quelled in his throat. He looked up at him. Eyes going so warm that Mark couldn’t help but watch them. The space between them going silent, filling with that persistent want. The kind that was begging for release. 

Jinyoung swallowed. Taking in a breath before whispering. “Don’t stop.”

Mark hovered closer, letting their lips ease back together. Slower now, sweeter. Cradling his head and kissing him. Waiting for his mouth to fall open, his body to cave towards him.

Jinyoung’s fingers felt for Mark’s shirt, undoing each button in a straight line down his chest. Unveiling more and more of him until he was pushing it off his shoulders and drawing his hands up Mark’s skin. Gripping for his sides with increasing strength that made Mark’s head feel light.

Mark’s hands did the same, pushing up Jinyoung’s shirt, albeit, more clumsily as he broke awake to force it over his head. Laying his eyes, his hands against his skin. Smoothing downwards and downwards until his hands rested at his belt. Hearing the little gasp in Jinyoung’s mouth when he got there.

He smiled. “You want this?” he said softly, knowing the answer.

Jinyoung looked back, eyes round as he licked at his pink lips. He nodded.

Mark’s hands worked open his belt, going slowly, if anything, just to watch the way Jinyoung’s eyes and chest widened, the way he hoisted himself onto his hands like he didn’t want to miss a thing.

“Wait,” Jinyoung stopped him.

Mark’s hands halted, looking up at him. Eyes questioning.

“Wait here,” Jinyoung pulled himself out from under him, wordlessly dashing up the staircase.

Mark sat back, shirtless and alone, looking down and seeing the blatantly hard line in his pants. Trying to smooth his hand over it, getting it to lay flat. Listening for the tiptoeing of Jinyoung’s feet as he came back down the stairs.

Jinyoung came back around the couch, tossing a bottle into Mark’s lap and taking a seat next to him.

Mark looked down, raising it up to read. Instinctively knowing what it was, but seeing all the words were in Korean. He looked back up at him. “Did you-” he paused, trying to piece it together. “Did you bring lube all the way from Korea?”

Jinyoung shrugged, “Maybe.” He grabbed at Mark’s sides, pulling him over again as he laid back onto the carpet.

Mark gave in easily, mind still stuck on the Korean lube as his knees braced on either side of his hips, sitting in his lap. “But you thought I was still seeing Youngjae,” he looked down to him.

“And yet,” Jinyoung eased up, kissing him again. Reaching for his hand and putting it back at his belt. “Here we are.”

Mark wanted to laugh but when Jinyoung pulled away, the weightiness of his stare drew him back into the moment immediately. Making quick work of the pants and letting them fall open before his fingers gripped into the waist, tugging them down Jinyoung’s tight hips until he could kick them off. Pulling back just to look down at him naked and glowing underneath him. Warm skin and rippling muscle and hard cock and, god, what about him wasn’t stunning? Because Mark felt like he could search forever and not find one inch of him that wasn’t absolutely perfect.

Mark reached for the bottle of lube, eagerly uncapping it and messly squeezing it across his cock. Watching it shine in the light, making his mouth water. He fitted his fingers around him, loosely at first, spreading it down his length before he tightened his fist. Hearing the way Jinyoung hissed at the feeling. Encouraged and working him with care, tongue peeking out of his mouth in concentration.

Jinyoung’s hips rocked upward, eager to meet his hand. Grabbing for his neck and drawing him close to kiss him again. Messier now as he fought through the pump of Mark’s fist.

But Mark kept going, not letting up. Fisting a steady pace that only kept heightening the more Jinyoung tensed beneath him. Feeling the way his kisses got clumsier. More tongue, more teeth. Mark smiled into it, loving the way he unraveled. Like he’d been wanting it his whole life.

Jinyoung’s hips kicked up a little more insistent, whining somewhere high in his throat, like he was close.

Mark pulled off of him, leaving his dick red and slick against his torso.

Jinyoung exhaled. Falling back and closing his eyes. Groaning at the sudden collapse of pressure.

Mark hovered over him, staring into his face, a smile stretching wide at the sight of him unsated. Feeling the high of power that came with that.

But he could only enjoy it a moment more before Jinyoung was pushing him over and sitting himself in his lap. Falling onto his hands to kiss him again but this time grinding down into the hard line of Mark’s pants.

Mark shuddered, hips rolling up into the curve of Jinyoung’s ass. Feeling the wet trace of his leaking dick against his skin, hand coming up to return around it.

“Fuck,” Jinyoung whimpered into his mouth. Not stopping the motion of his hips, down into Mark and back up into his hand. Dripping more against his skin as his lips went to Mark’s neck and chest.

Mark felt the increase of his movements, watching him sit up in his lap. Eyes screwing shut as the muscles tensed again. His arms and his chest and his abs. Going impossibly tight. Mark’s hand pulled away again.

Jinyoung’s shoulders dropped, everything in him going loose again. “You’re killing me,” he panted.

“Hardly,” Mark huffed, looking up at him. Drinking in the view for a moment before toppling Jinyoung’s weakened frame over. He reached for the bottle of lube again, coating his fingers and tossing it to the side. Letting those fingers slide down between Jinyoung’s legs and encircle his entrance.

Jinyoung’s mouth fell open in a moan, hips angling down to rub up against him.

Mark smiled, so fixated on his face, on the way he writhed for him. Ruining that reserved and comforting image of him so wonderfully that Mark wondered what more there was to uncover. He sunk a finger into him, feeling his back arch up from the carpet. Hissing through his teeth when Mark’s hand returned to his cock, stroking him again as he slid another one of his fingers in. He could feel the thrum of his pulse, working in time with it as it kept heightening. Finding it so hard not to smile, thinking about this man who had been tormenting him for months and the way he so readily came apart from merely the touch of his hands.

“Fuck, right there,” Jinyoung gasped, twisting his hips down into his hands.

And Mark maybe gave him three more thrusts of his fingers, pumps of his fist before he pulled off of him again, watching the way his body fell impossibly open. The rise and fall of his chest. The dark, pleading look in his eyes when they shot open.

“M-Mark,” he whimpered, staring up at him.

Mark came closer, bracing over him. Hand tracing a small circle against his chest and feeling the beat of his heart from the other side. “What?” he whispered, looking into his eyes. Letting his mouth hover just out of reach. Smirking until his teeth showed through. “Are you frustrated?”

Jinyoung nodded. Voice coming out so weak and small. “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Fuck me,” he said, too boldly. Like he had no more decency to hide behind. “Please, Mark. I’ve waited so long. So fucking long.”

And Mark had been waiting just as long, so it found it impossible to deny him anymore. Pushing off his pants and slicking himself up before making space for himself between Jinyoung’s open legs. He reached up, grabbing at the back of his neck and pulling him onto his forearms to kiss him. Tongues sliding together as Mark sunk himself into him, breathing in the whine that Jinyoung gave into his mouth.

And perhaps Mark had not even realized how incredibly untouched he’d gone until he was feeling the way Jinyoung throbbed around him. Just as warm and close and wonderful as the man in question. He drew his hips back, but as soon as he did, Jinyoung was reaching forward, grabbing fistfuls of Mark's ass just to draw him in again.

Mark smiled, removing his hands, intertwining their fingers and pinning them above his head. His face fitting into the hollow of his throat, kissing and feeling every staggered breath Jinyoung gave as he worked up the rhythm of his hips. Feeling the curve of their bodies meeting in the middle. Having needed it for so long that even getting it felt somewhere close to not enough, like never enough.

Mark felt the grip of Jinyoung’s hands getting tighter, along with the sounds in his throat. And they were enough to have Mark’s insatiable heat take hold, blooming down his limbs and across his chest, sure that Jinyoung could see the flush of it across his skin. He reached down, hand closing around Jinyoung’s cock again. Stroking him roughly alongside his thrusts.

Jinyoung gasped, eyes meeting Mark’s as he braced over him. His eyes glittering and soft despite all the intensity.

And Mark’s other hand traced down his face, thumbing at his lip. Remembering Christmas morning and the stunning clarity of Jinyoung’s face, reflecting back his emotions like a mirror. He felt the ache in his chest. “Perfect,” he unconsciously whispered. _“So fucking perfect.”_

Jinyoung’s mouth fell open, moaning definitively as he spilled across his torso.

And Mark’s eyes traveled down, seeing the mess against his skin, slipping between his contours before he looked back up to his face, watching that fixed upward tilt of his brows stare back as he latently took Mark’s thumb into his mouth. Brushing his tongue against it. And it was enough to make Mark eclipse on his next thrust, caving towards him as he stayed fixated.

Until Jinyoung was pulling him down and kissing him with just as much intensity as they started with. Panting and heaving into each other’s mouth. Feeling the stretch of his smile despite it.

Jinyoung pulled away, laying back against the floor and smiling up at him. “So,” he breathed. “Is she going to be sleeping over there every time they have a game then?” 

Mark’s chest gave out, burying his face into Jinyoung’s chest before looking back up at him. 

“God. I hope so.”


	12. Twelve.

The next morning, Mark was the first to wake up. Looking over and seeing Jinyoung sleeping peacefully. Their bodies so close that their legs were intertwined. And Mark watched the slow, precious breaths he took. The rise and fall of his bare chest. His radiant skin. Looking just as warm as he felt. Harkening back to Christmas morning. Except maybe he was even more beautiful now. Because things were different. In the best way.

Mark untangled himself carefully, not wanting to rouse him. He went downstairs, going to the kitchen and starting to make breakfast. But as soon as he had eggs sizzling in the pan, he heard the ringing of the doorbell. Furrowing his brows, he went to it. But when he opened the door, no one was there. His eyes traveled downwards, seeing a package on the doorstep. A thick padded envelope.

He picked it up slowly, feeling how heavy and dense it was. He inspected the Korean characters across it. Stamps and ink and Mark’s address across the center label. But not his name.

_Jinyoung Park_

And it gave him a small thrill to think that Jinyoung had been sending his mail to Mark’s house. Almost like it was more than just Mark’s house now. But then the curiosity set in. Wondering what it was. And feeling this pit in his stomach that he couldn’t explain. Like it was inevitably some bad omen waiting to be uncovered. But he smothered that feeling, replacing it with something more positive. Bringing the package in and setting it down on the kitchen table and returning to cooking.

It was a few minutes later when Mark heard soft footsteps down the staircase, looking up to see Jinyoung. He was dressed now, athletic clothes in preparation for the soccer game. And Mark’s eyes immediately went to his chest. Big blue UCLA across the front. Mark’s favorite t-shirt. Just as tight on his arms and across his chest as it had been the last time. 

“Good morning,” he said. And it sounded so different from any other good morning they had shared in the past few months. So dreamy and light.

Mark felt the inevitable pull of his smile. “Morning.”

He came forward, looking at Mark working at the stove. “Breakfast, just for us?” he said, hugging his arms around his back. Resting his chin on his shoulder.

“Mmhm,” Mark hummed, hand coming to cover Jinyoung’s across his middle. “You’ll need it to chase after a dozen six-year olds in a few hours.”

Jinyoung huffed, close to his ear. “You’re right.”

Mark shifted in Jinyoung’s arms to face him. Pulling away and letting his hands run over that UCLA shirt. Fingertips tracing the letters, feeling the firmness of his chest underneath. “Are you going to wear this to the game?”

Jinyoung smiled, all the way up to his eyes. He leaned in a little closer, voice going low. “Why? You don’t like it?”

Mark felt the hint of a blush at his ears. “No, I do,” he laughed. “But you’re going to get it all sweaty.”

“So what?” Jinyoung craned his head, landing a kiss under Mark’s ear. Trailing another further down as he whispered. “I’ll wash it.”

Mark smiled, shoulder drawing up. “Oh yeah, cause the last time you did laundry went so well.”

“You’re mean,” Jinyoung murmured against his skin. “So, so mean.”

Mark giggled, pushing at his chest to look in his face. “And yet, you like me.”

Jinyoung looked at him, eyes alive and warm. “I do.”

Mark felt it radiate through him. Wanting to cave into him. But from the corner of his eye, the envelope on the kitchen table sat. Drawing his attention away and making that pit in his stomach reappear. He turned back towards the stove, turning it off and starting to make their plates. “Something came for you by the way,” he said, off-handedly. He beckoned behind him. “It’s on the table.”

“Oh.” Jinyoung went to get it. Picking it up and reading it.

Mark looked up at him. Curiosity getting the better of him. “What is it?”

Jinyoung looked back, eyes going a little too round. He shook his head. “Just some stuff for work,” he shoved it away. 

And Mark remembered holding the envelope. How it felt. Thick and heavy. It clicked. “A script.”

Jinyoung’s eyes stayed round. “Yeah.”

Mark was quiet for a moment. Thinking. “You took another part.”

And Jinyoung paused for a moment, lips going thin. “I did.”

“When?” Mark asked. “How long?”

Jinyoung took a deep breath. “Month after next.” He came closer, leaning against the counter. Making considerably more distance there now. “It’s a bigger part than the last one. So I might need to spend a little more time there.”

“Like how much more time?”

Jinyoung shrugged. “I don’t know. Right now filming looks like it will be about two months.”

Mark felt tense everywhere. He crossed his arms. “When were you going to tell me?”

“It’s only been a few days,” he shook his head. “They overnighted the script.”

“Still,” Mark said, voice growing firmer.

Jinyoung looked at him. He came forward, reaching out. Voice going soft. “Mark. Come on,” he said, grabbing his waist and pulling him into his arms. “Let’s enjoy the morning. We can talk about this later.”

And Mark still felt so tense. Looking up into those eyes. Feeling the warmth of his arms around him. And he consciously let out a pent up breath. He nodded. “Okay.”

\---

By the time Jinyoung and Mark arrived to the field, Jaebeom was setting up his station on the sideline, a set of chairs and a picnic blanket and a cooler full of snacks and refreshments. Jackson, Bambam, and Sunny were setting up cones on the field. Sunny pulling Milo along by his leash as he rolled around in the grass.

“Hey, Coach!” Jaebeom called to Jinyoung with a wave. “And Mark.”

“Hey,” Mark looked out at the kids setting up, mentally counting. “You’re missing one.”

“I’m here!” Yugyeom popped up from the other side of Jaebeom. He was sitting on the grass, a picture book in his lap.

“Oh, there you are,” Mark smiled, coming over to him. “How is your wrist?”

“It’s okay,” he shrugged. He held up his bright orange cast. “I like the cast. It’s like aposematism.”

“Like what?” Mark’s face drew up.

Yugyeom flipped the pages of his book. “It’s when bugs have bright colors to warn predators not to eat them.” He held up a page with a giant orange beetle.

Mark laughed, because, of course, it was bug-related. “Well, then I’ll make sure not to eat you,” he smiled, ruffling a hand through his hair. He looked at the cast a little closer. Seeing it was free of any writing. “You didn’t let Bambam sign it yet?”

“No,” Yugyeom shook his head. “I wanted Jinyoung to be the first one.”

Mark looked back, seeing Jinyoung’s brows high in surprise. “Why me?”

“Because you saved my life,” Yugyeom said, genuinely.

And Mark had to quell his laugh, looking up at Jaebeom who just shrugged his wide shoulders before rummaging in his bag. “Here, Jinyoung,” he said, pulling out a marker. “Do the honors.”

Jinyoung smiled, taking it and squatting down to Yugyeom’s level as he started to write.

“So, Yugyeom’s not playing?” Mark asked, taking a seat next to Jaebeom.

Jaebeom leaned in, keeping his voice low. “To be honest,” he said. “He could probably play but I told Jackson he shouldn’t.”

“Why?”

He winced, “I can’t in good faith tell him he can be whatever he wants to be when he grows up and then be forcing him to dribble a ball up and down a field.”

“You can’t,” Mark agreed, smiling. “They have minds of their own.”

“There,” Jinyoung recapped the marker.

“What’d he draw, Yugyeom?” Jaebeom asked, craning his head.

Yugyeom inspected it carefully before holding it up with a gasp, “It’s a chrysalis!”

“Mmhm,” Jinyoung hummed with a smile. “Because your cast is like a chrysalis, right? And you’ll be getting a brand new, beautiful wrist once it heals.”

Yugyeom looked up to him in beaming admiration.

“Dad! Jinyoung!” Sunny called, running over. “You’re here. I need your help.” She threw herself into Mark’s lap, Milo following close behind and jumping up to licking at Mark’s knee.

Mark groaned when she landed, arms coming up to reposition her comfortably. “Down,” he told Milo, firmly, before looking at his daughter. “What does Sunny Bunny need?”

“I need you to braid my hair,” she said holding up a hair tie. “Uncle Jaebeom and Uncle Jackson didn’t know how because Yugyeom and Bambam don’t have long hair.”

“Okay, okay,” Mark nodded. “I can do that for you.” He began finger-combing her hair and collecting it in his hands. Twisting the pieces around each other.

She sat patiently. “Are you going to watch the game?”

He put the hair tie between his teeth. Noting it was one of the fuzzy ones that Jinyoung had brought back from Korea. This time in a shade of burgundy to match her team t-shirt. He muttered around it, “Of course. I’ll be here the whole time. And then afterward, we can go have a delicious meal with the team. How does that sound?” 

“What do I get if I score a point?”

“Sunny,” Mark huffed, taking it from his mouth and starting to twist it around the end of her hair. “It isn’t all about scoring points. It's about having fun and helping other teammates too.”

She turned towards him, eyes going wide. “If I score a point, can we go to Disneyland soon? You and me and Jinyoung?”

Mark smiled, “We can just go. Whenever we want.”

“No,” Sunny groaned. “Make it a game!”

Mark rolled his eyes. “Okay,” he said. “Fine. If you score a point, we can go to Disneyland.” 

“Okay,” she nodded, pleased. “Are you done?”

“Yup,” Mark righted her onto her feet. 

“Are you going to watch Milo while I play?” she asked, handing over the leash.

Mark sighed, taking it. “Yes, I will watch him. Now, go have some fun,” he motioned to the field. And when she ran off, he remembered to shout, “And play nice!”

Soon, the field filled up with players from both teams, all the kids stretching together and exchanging high fives before the referee blew the whistle and started the game. Jinyoung and Jackson called out to the kids from the side lines as they ran up and down the field. Jackson wincing and pulling at his hair every time a kid missed a kick or went out of bounds, shoulders falling and eyes rolling. But luckily, Jinyoung balanced him out, staying more positive and cheering on each small success. A good pass, a particularly fast sprint, a well-intentioned kick that didn’t quite make it in the goal. And Mark couldn’t help but appreciate watching him, still fixated on the way the t-shirt would ride up a little bit each time he put his hands over his head to cheer a kid on, exposing just the smallest band of skin at the waist of his athletic shorts.

“How was Christmas?” Jaebeom asked, sometime just after the halftime snack break, cleaning up the litter of tangerine peels from the blanket.

“Christmas was good,” Mark nodded, pulling Milo back from a piece of grass he was chewing on.

“Was Jinyoung there with your family?”

“Yeah,” he said, feeling a little nervous. Knowing where the topic was inevitably going. “He met them all.”

“How did you explain that one to them?”

Mark bit at his lips, eyes casting downward as he busied his hands, picking up Milo and putting him in his lap. Watching the way he looked up at him, tongue hanging loose out of his grinning mouth. “I might have told them that he’s my boyfriend,” he started to pet him.

“Mark,” Jaebeom sighed, looking at him. “These lies. You’ve really got to cool it.”

“But,” Mark’s voice went shy. “What if it’s not really a lie anymore?”

“Mark,” Jaebeom warned.

“What?”

“What happened?”

Mark shrugged, feeling the smile creep across his face. “A lot. A lot of good things actually.” And when Jaebeom went silent, he looked up, seeing the wide, toothy grin across the man’s face.

“You like him,” Jaebeom said, voice oozing sweetness.

Mark hated the way he immediately flushed like a schoolboy. He looked up, spotting Jinyoung on the sideline, clapping his hands and cheering when Bambam playing goalie managed to accidentally block a kick towards the goal when he’d been distracted, inspecting his nails. The ball ricocheting off his shin, causing him to squeal. “Go, Bambam! You did it! Now throw it back!”

Mark felt a lightness in his chest that he’d never really known before. “I like him,” he said. “Why?”

“I just haven’t heard you say it before,” Jaebeom smiled. “I’m happy for you both. You finally worked through everything.”

And Mark’s mind unfortunately went to that script on the kitchen table. “Yeah,” he said, a little more withdrawn. “Everything.”

It was the last five minutes of the game. The coaches’ voices getting a little louder, the moving legs of the kids a little faster, giving it their final push. It didn’t surprise Mark that neither team had managed to score, afterall, they were still so young and uncoordinated and figuring it out.

One boy on the other team over kicked the ball, sending it far past the person he was aiming for. It rolled to Sunny’s cleats. She paused for a moment, looking at it before she started to move forward, dribbling it between her feet.

“Go, Sunny!” Jackson screamed. “Keep running! Keep it tight!”

Sunny did, picking up speed and maneuvering the ball between her feet closely as she ran for the goal.

Mark neared the edge of his seat, nearly dropping Milo but remembering to hold him close to his chest.

A girl of the opposing team ran up next to her, swiping her feet, trying to knock the ball away.

“Keep her out!” Jackson shouted. “Like we practiced!”

And Sunny turned her body a little more to block the other girl out, continuing on until the girl got fed up, falling away with a pout. Sunny continued towards the goal, eyes flicking up towards the goalie.

Jinyoung put his hands around his mouth, calling loud. “Haeseon!”

Sunny’s eyes went to him.

Jinyoung shouted something in Korean.

And Sunny seemed to smile as she dribbled closer. Her foot drawing back before delivering a hard kick to the ball.

Mark held his breath as it flew across the grass. Straight past the reach of the goalie’s foot and into the goal. He jumped to his feet, Milo falling to the wayside with a soft yelp. “Sunny!” he shouted, fists raising into the air. “That’s my girl!”

Jinyoung and Jackson cheered too. So deep in their shared euphoria that Jackson excitedly wrapped his arms around Jinyoung, jumping up and down with him.

The game ended with a blow of the whistle, the coaches running to the field. Jinyoung scooping Sunny up in his arms and holding her up like a trophy while she giggled and squirmed.

Mark felt that lightness again, like a balloon ready to burst.

Jaebeom sighed, happily from his side. “I’m so happy for you both,” he repeated.

\---

After cleaning up the field and packing up Jaebeom’s car, the coaches settled on a restaurant in a shopping center nearby. Sunny begging for her and Milo to ride in Jaebeom’s car with the boys. Jackson mentioned that they’d probably be late because they wanted to pick up a cake to celebrate the team’s first victory. Mark waved them all off, him and Jinyoung taking off towards the shopping center. 

Mark was trying to find a space in the parking garage but it was packed with cars. “God,” he scoffed. “Is there some event today that I don’t know about? This place is slammed.”

“There’s a spot,” Jinyoung pointed.

Mark sighed, eyeing it as they approached it. “That’s too small. I don’t think I can fit in there.”

“Just try it.”

So Mark did, pulling his car in tightly. And as soon as he was securely in the spot, he looked out his window. His shoulders dropping. “It’s way too tight,” he said, “I can’t even get out without hitting the car next to me.”

“There’s enough room on my side,” Jinyoung said. “Just get out over here.”

Mark rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he put the car in park, turning if off and unbuckling his seatbelt. “I’m coming over.”

Mark squeezed over the center console, one leg first and the other one following behind. He leaned his hands against Jinyoung's seat, clumsily maneuvering himself towards the door. And he was about to pull the handle open when Jinyoung’s hands reached around his thighs, dragging him down into his lap.

“What are you-” Mark glared at him, but immediately his expression softened. Seeing the way that Jinyoung was looking up at him. That unmistakable way that his eyes went so round.

Mark felt the flicker of something in his core. Incited by the look of his curious eyes, his warmth of his hands, suddenly ever so conscious of the meeting of their laps. He felt something hot streak down his spine. But he fought it, narrowing his eyes. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Jinyoung’s voice went softer, feigning innocence.

“You know what,” Mark hit his chest. “We gotta go.”

Jinyoung’s hands didn’t retreat, instead they spread upwards, fingers splayed as they worked under his thighs. “We’re early,” he hummed, bringing his face closer. Eyes flicking down to his mouth.

Mark put a hand against his chest, pushing him back into the seat. “Still.”

Jinyoung’s hands went higher, ghosting over his ass and sliding up under the back of his shirt. Against his skin as they rounded around his waist. 

Mark’s back straightened, his hips inadvertently grinding downward into his lap. The feeling blazed up him, leaving him lightheaded. He tightened his jaw, trying to hold his reaction.

One of Jinyoung’s hands trailed up to his chest, fingertips grazing softly against the skin on his sternum. Pausing for a moment before the smile slowly grew across his face. He laughed softly. “There it is,” he whispered.

And the sound of his voice, all hushed and warm, only made the feeling heighten. “There’s what?”

Jinyoung giggled. “Your breathing,” he teased. 

“My breathing?”

His finger traced a circle at the center of his chest. “I like it when it goes all erratic,” he hummed. “Like you want me.”

Mark was quiet. Looking into his eyes and smelling that lingering sweat on him. Wondering why it smelled so good. Feeling all the caustic heat drip through his veins, too hot and wild. Wondering how Jinyoung could be so sweet with kids and so good in front of his family yet so deadly when he was like this. 

The hand against Mark’s bare chest traveled upward, the fabric of his shirt bunching around his forearm, exposing Mark’s torso as he wrapped that hand around the base of his neck. Jinyoung sat up, lips finding his neck. Pressing down so soft and sweet. One after the other, after the other.

It made Mark tremble. Eyes falling closed as he relished the way his lips and hands felt. Tickling at the sensitive skin. Achingly sweet, but the heat of it encouraged that blaze that left him dizzy. Jumbling his thoughts so bad that the reason for pushing him away got lost, consumed by the persistent want. 

“Jinyoung,” he sighed, the sound of it vibrating against the press of his lips at his throat. 

Jinyoung drew his face back, looking up at him. That roundness in his eyes so alive, like a fire that wouldn’t smother.

Mark trembled again. He reached behind his back, opening up the glove compartment without looking. Feeling for the bottle he kept in there. Tossing it into Jinyoung’s lap.

Jinyoung looked down to it, mouth pulling up on one side. “Why do you-?”

“Are you going to ask?” Mark’s hands traced for those UCLA letters again. “Or are you going to use it?”

Jinyoung smiled, reaching up and kissing his mouth. Just as sweetly. But his hand had other intentions as it snaked down Mark’s torso and gripped at the tented space of his joggers. And when Mark gasped, Jinyoung skirted his tongue behind his teeth, pressing harder into him as his hand began to work against him.

Mark’s hands gripped into the fabric on his chest as his body shuddered, tensing up just to fall more open again.

Jinyoung’s hands reached up his thighs again, fingers splayed as they worked up the back of his sweatpants. Over his ass and curling under the waistband, tugging them down just enough to get the access he needed.

Mark kept kissing him as he heard the uncapping of the bottle, warning enough to have his thighs spreading wider, leaning further into Jinyoung.

Jinyoung’s hand gripped onto him again, inching forward until it was feeling at his entrance. Slick and cool and making Mark shudder again. He circled him, teasing and slow.

Mark arched his back eagerly, giving a whine into Jinyoung’s mouth.

He could feel the spread of Jinyoung’s smile against his lips as his finger pressed in. He whimpered, hands going even tighter in the t-shirt as he drew him closer, kissed him harder.

Jinyoung nearly laughed, working that finger into him carefully. Adding another when the slide became smoother. Curling them up into Mark in a way that had him panting, brows knitting together as he kissed with all his might. Like it would keep him from falling apart.

Mark’s hips gave an involuntary grind down into him, feeling the unmistakable tent in Jinyoung’s shorts. Grinding down again, like it would relieve the pressure building up inside of him, but all it did was heighten it.

Jinyoung pulled his fingers away, hands resting at Mark’s waist and pushing him away gently. “Lean back,” he whispered, laying him down against the dashboard.

Mark looked down at where their hips met, watching as Jinyoung pulled his shorts down enough to free his hard cock. Mesmerized by the way he stroked it slick with the lube.

Jinyoung grabbed at Mark’s hips, drawing them up onto him. Lining himself up with his entrance before he slid in.

Mark groaned, head falling back and hips grinding down at how fucking good it felt to have him inside.

Jinyoung's hands tightened against Mark’s hips, slowly manipulating them down his length and back up again.

Mark worked with his rhythm, feeling his thighs tense as he rocked against him. Savoring the slow and thorough meeting of their bodies.

Jinyoung’s hand reached down, tugging at the remaining fabric of Mark’s pants until he was wrapping around his dick, stroking him.

And it felt too good, overwhelmingly so. But the only thing Mark’s body could do to cope was grind down into him harder, quicker. Still trying desperately to relieve that pressure, but feeling the way it was turning volatile. Taking over everything and rendering him senseless.

Jinyoung’s hand at his waist kept pulling him in, hand around his cock kept working him, thumbing over his slit at the dripping precome and spreading it. Watching like just the sight of Mark, breathless and shuddering against him, was delightful enough. 

Mark sat up, reaching for Jinyoung’s face and drawing him in. Biting down onto his lip and hearing him moan. Emboldened by it as he just worked himself harder against him, riding his lap.

He could feel Jinyoung’s hand at his hip tremor, gripping hard enough to bruise. The hand around his cock growing more eager, working him faster.

And Mark felt high on it. Unable to speak or think. Consumed by the rake of their bodies. Leaning his forehead into Jinyoung’s and whimpering, higher and higher, his hands tightening around Jinyoung’s jaw as it became too much. Combusting under the pressure and moaning loud as he spilled over Jinyoung’s hand and himself.

And it must have been too much for Jinyoung, for he bit down on his lip, stifling a sound as his hands went slack, falling away. Collapsing back into his seat as if passed out.

Mark leaned down, kissing his face with a laugh. “Hey,” he giggled, breath heaving in his chest. “Wake up. We got to go.” 

And Jinyoung opened his eyes, smiling as he batted Mark away. Looking up at him with that stunningly beautiful clarity in his eyes. Adoring him without words. 

Mark felt just as high on it. Just as senseless and consumed by it. He licked his lips. “What did you tell her?” he asked. “Before she scored?””

Jinyoung’s face broke with a laugh. “Goalie was weak on his left side,” he said. “She learned directional words last week.”

And they both laughed before they began piecing themselves together. Mark making use of the wet wipes he always kept in the seat pocket. And by the time they made their way to the restaurant, the team was already seated. Two places at the table reserved for them. 

“Did you guys get lost?” Jackson looked up from the menu when they approached the table.

“Yeah,” Mark nodded, unable to quell his smile. “Something like that.”

\---

That night Mark was brushing his teeth before bed when Jinyoung came into the room. The peace lily between his hands. Mark leaned in the bathroom doorway, watching him as he brushed.

“I thought we should probably relocate it to this room,” Jinyoung shrugged, putting it down on the dresser and turning it to face forward. “I think she’ll do even better in here.”

Mark went to the sink, rinsing his mouth out. But when he looked up, wiping his mouth against the back of his hand, Jinyoung was standing behind him in the mirror. 

His arms were folded across his chest. His brows drawn together in concern. “What’s wrong?” 

Mark shook his head. “Nothing.”

Jinyoung’s face didn’t relax. “Is it the script?”

Mark looked down into the sink. Remembering. Wondering if maybe he’d been carrying around some trace of it all day, unable to see it himself. But knowing that if anyone could have seen it, it was Jinyoung. “I just…” he hesitated. “I wish you would have talked to me first.”

“I didn’t want to worry you. Things weren’t settled yet.”

“With the role?” Mark looked up at him in the mirror.

Jinyoung’s face stayed firm. “With us.”

Mark’s eyes fell again. Feeling a hint of guilt. Like maybe he was splitting hairs about something that wasn’t worth holding onto. But he still couldn’t find it in him to let it go. He turned towards him. “I understand. I just… I don’t want you to go.” He looked up at him, shrugging. “It feels like you just got here.”

“ _We_ just got here.”

Mark nodded. “Exactly.”

Jinyoung sighed. “I don’t want to go either. I don’t want to leave Sunny or you,” he said. “But it’s my job, Mark.”

Mark went quiet. Because he knew. Logically, he knew. And yet, it still bubbled up all those unsettled doubts inside of him. Wondering if this was an opportunity for them to grow or a red flag he didn’t want to acknowledge.

“Come here,” Jinyoung said, reaching out to grab him. Pulling him closer and fitting his arms around his shoulders.

And Mark’s arms went around his waist, tucking his head against his shoulder.

Jinyoung kissed into his hair. “Even if I have to go,” he murmured. “I’m always going to come back.”

And Mark heard the sincerity of the words. Believing Jinyoung meant it. But even so, he held onto those unsaid words, the feeling of doubt he couldn’t piece apart. Not sure how to voice it.

\---

The days following were spent making new normals. Like the way Mark would laugh feeding Jinyoung’s bites of dinner before it was ready to serve, the way they’d sit too close when they watched movies with Sunny, the way they kept their voices down as they moved through Mark’s sheets after Sunny went to bed. And it was great and it was beautiful and it made it so much easier for Mark to relax the grip his mind had around that script. So much easier to just trust that it would be okay. Even if merely the thought of Jinyoung’s absence made his whole chest want to cave in.

Sunny ran in the house one afternoon after Jackson dropped her off from school, holding a paper between her hands.

“Hey, Sunny,” Mark’s eyes shot up at her. “How was school?”

“Where’s Jinyoung?” she asked.

“School was good,” Mark nodded, continuing the conversation with himself. “I developed a cure for cancer and got an Olympic gold medal.”

“Dad,” she whined.

“What are you whining about?” Jinyoung came in, putting his hands on her shoulders and kissing her hair. “Hmm?”

“Jinyoung,” she gasped. “Look. Look. Look.” She held the paper in her hands up to him.

“What is this?” he said, taking it with his free hand.

“My class is doing a school play this spring,” she jumped. “It’s about a lumberjack and a bird and a porcupine and a beaver and-”

“Hey. Let’s sit down,” Jinyoung stopped her. “And you can tell me all about it.”

And Sunny did, sitting at the table with Mark and Jinyoung while she told the story of the lumberjack and his animal friends. How the lumberjack accidentally cut down the bird’s home and then burned the porcupine’s sticks and then destroyed the beaver’s dam. How he kept them in his beard to give them a new home. Going on and on as she told the story. Eyes going wide at the climax before wrapping it up. “And they all got to live happily after that.”

Mark and Jinyoung sat silent.

“So,” Jinyoung started. “Do you want to be the bird? Or the beaver?”

“No,” Sunny shook her head. “I want to be the lumberjack.”

Mark smiled, because of course she did.

“Okay,” Jinyoung nodded.

“The audition is next week,” she said. “Mr. Choi said we need to practice really, really hard if we want to get the main part.” 

“Of course you do,” Jinyoung agreed. “But what do you need my help for?”

“I need you to teach me about acting.”

Jinyoung’s smile grew across his face. “Okay,” he bit back his smile. “I can help you. When do you want to start?”

“Now,” she grabbed his arm. “Come on.”

“Not so fast,” Mark stopped her. “Other homework first.”

Sunny looked like she was about to protest, before she groaned, slumping back into her seat. “Okay.”

And even as Jinyoung got up from the table, Mark couldn’t mistake the newly found enthusiasm in his walk that made him smile fondly.

\---

Mark did follow through on his promise and when they had a free weekend, they piled into the car for a trip to Disneyland. Sunny practiced her lumberjack lines in the car, Jinyoung coaching her through them. 

Jinyoung had never been to the park, so after they secured him a “1st Visit” pin at City Hall, they started walking around. Mark and Sunny had been countless times, yet somehow, experiencing it through Jinyoung was a totally different feeling. Luckily, Sunny was a good tour guide. Telling him which shows were worth making time for, which snacks were the tastiest, which rides were supreme. And while Mark’s favorite was always Space Mountain, after four back to back rides, Sunny had converted Jinyoung into a Pirates of the Caribbean fan.

And what only added to the experience was the diligent way that Jinyoung held Mark’s hand in line, took selfies of the three of them together, rummaged through all the different ear options, making Mark try each and every one of them, to find the one that suited him most. Buying two for both of them to wear.

They were in Adventureland, taking a break. Mark and Jinyoung sharing a Dole Whip while Sunny crunched down on her Mickey shaped ice cream bar, when Mark spotted two girls across the path from them. Both of them slightly younger, mid-twenties probably. And Mark couldn’t help but notice the obvious way in which they kept watching them. Their eyes going from Jinyoung to Sunny to Mark before trying to look away, talking to each other closely. Before staring again.

“Jinyoung,” Mark leaned into his shoulder, licking his lip and passing back the Dole Whip. “Don’t be obvious. But those girls across the way keep looking over here.”

Jinyoung’s eyes drifted up, covered by the tint of his sunglasses. He looked away. “Just ignore them,” he said, taking a final taste of the treat before tossing it in a nearby trash can. “Sunny,” he called after her. “Let’s go grab a spot for the parade.”

“But I’m not done,” she said, eyes squinted towards the sun. Only one of Mickey’s ears bitten off. 

“Well, hurry up. You said we shouldn’t miss it,” he reached for her hand, trying to guide her away.

And Mark didn’t understand the suddenly insistence, distantly remembering that the parade didn’t start for another half hour. But when he turned his head, the two girls were standing right beside them. Their eyes trained on Jinyoung. Bowing slightly before nervously speaking to him in fluent Korean. And Mark realized, maybe more latently than he should have, that they were fans. The idea itself was a little unsettling, because it had never crossed Mark’s mind that Jinyoung could be recognized. And he had to remind himself that Jinyoung was a major actor where he was from.

Jinyoung stopped, dropping Sunny’s hand. He stared at them, face blank before responding in Korean with a nod. Coming between them and taking one of their phones, passing it to Mark.

“Can you…” he asked, voice tired.

Mark blinked. “Yeah,” he took the phone. Holding it up to take a picture of the three of them. “1, 2, 3,” he said, watching the way the girls held up peace signs. But Jinyoung’s expression was still so dead, just the ghost of a forced smile across his mouth. “There,” Mark said, handing their phone back.

“Thank you,” the girl said in her heavy accent, bowing to both Mark and Jinyoung before they walked away.

“Come on,” Jinyoung sighed.

They secured a spot for the parade, thankfully earning a good vantage point for the action. But even when the music started playing and the characters started lumbering down the street in their costumes, Jinyoung didn’t have that same enthusiasm he held before. He just seemed to be holding onto a considerable amount of tension, standing with his arms crossed over his chest.

Mark finally decided to speak up. “Are you okay?”

Jinyoung pulled himself from whatever thought he’d been having. “Yeah,” he sighed. “They were just fans. It’s fine.”

“You didn’t seem too happy about it.”

Jinyoung went quiet, face tightening.

Mark shrugged, “If you didn’t want to take a picture with them, why did you?”

Jinyoung sighed, shoulders falling. “Because if you don’t just take the picture, they're more likely to just record you against your will. And I didn’t want that. Not when I’m here with you and Sunny.”

They didn’t speak about it after that. And Mark waited the whole day for Jinyoung to let go of that tension he was holding onto, but he never did. And it was painfully obvious in the way that he stopped holding Mark’s hand, stopped taking pictures of all of them, put his ears away with the excuse that he had a headache. Even if Mark tried to reach out and grab his hand, he would just squeeze it in the return before letting it fall away. 

The shift seemed so drastic that Mark couldn’t explain it. So much more than just the temporary frustration of having to take a picture with strangers. And though he tried to stay positive, for Sunny, he couldn’t deny the way it ate at him for the rest of their day.

\---

By the time they got home, it was so late and they were so tired. Nearly immediately putting Sunny to sleep before going upstairs and crawling into bed. Mark lay on his side, watching Jinyoung read. The fireworks still ringing in his ears, similar to the persistent white noise of Jinyoung’s coldness that he couldn’t stop thinking about. 

He licked his lips, weighing his words. “Hey,” he spoke. “What happened today?” 

Jinyoung paused, looking away from his book. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean after you saw that fan,” he said, readjusting himself against the pillow. “Things felt different after that.”

Jinyoung sighed, folding the corner of his book and putting it to the side. “I’m sorry,” he slid further into the covers, meeting Mark’s eyes. “I got worried. About people seeing us.”

Mark’s teeth wore against his lip. Voice weakened when he spoke. “Would that be so bad?”

Jinyoung’s eyes were sad, pensive, even as they were trained on Mark’s face. He swallowed. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

“It’s different there.” 

“How so?”

Jinyoung’s face got tighter, shaking his head. “People are judgemental for that sort of stuff.” 

“What sort of stuff?” 

“Public figures having relationships, families.” 

“So…” Mark’s brows knit together. “What do people do?” 

Jinyoung shrugged. “They just hide it.” 

Mark felt an ache in his chest. “Is that what you would have had to do?” he asked, softly. “If you had her?”

Jinyoung was quiet for a moment, looking off. “I think about that a lot. What if her mom had told me, what if she gave us the chance to keep her?” his lips pressed into a thin line. “But there was only one thing I could have done. Married her mom. Hid her. Hid both of them. For as long as possible. And I can’t blame her for leaving, for not wanting that life for herself.”

Jinyoung’s eyes were unfocused, remembering. He shook his head. “She was so smart, so mature. Because she knew that if Sunny grew up in Korea, she’d always be hiding. She’d be a ticking time bomb. A scandal waiting to happen.” He looked back up to him. “By giving her up, letting her have a life in America, she gave Sunny a life that’s hers. Not a life that’s only about me and my career.”

Mark reached out, intertwining their hands. “And I’m so thankful she did.” He looked down at where his fingers wore against Jinyoung’s, still nervous. Unsettled. “But... Is that how it will be? For us? Always hiding.”

Jinyoung blinked back at him, face flooded with pain. “I don’t know.”

“And what about Sunny?” Mark suggested. “If people find out. If they do the math...”

“Yeah,” Jinyoung breathed, voice just as weak. “They’ll know.”

The silence stretched on. The question hanging in the air, begging to be voiced. “What will happen?”

And he half expected Jinyoung to wave him off, tell him it was fine. That it would be fine. But maybe what happened at the park was still weighing on him too, because he looked down at their hands intertwined and broke down to honesty. “I could lose jobs. Endorsements. Fans.”

The ache in Mark’s chest deepened. The fear, uncertainty, doubt, all circulating. Feeling so much pain for Jinyoung. But also, so much fear for Sunny. “So,” his thumb grazed against Jinyoung’s hand. “What are you going to do?”

Jinyoung’s mouth pulled into a tight line. “The only thing I can do.”

“Keep hiding.”

Jinyoung’s stare burrowed deep. He nodded.

Mark drew in a shaky breath, holding it in. “Secrets don't stay secrets forever, Jinyoung.”

Jinyoung’s mouth pulled up to one side, feigning hope. “I mean… I’ve made it six years.”

“That’s different. You didn’t know about her. There was nothing to hide.”

Jinyoung looked away. That feigned hope in his features fading. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Mark watched him, concerned. Realizing that his fear had been misplaced along. Because for so long, the fear of breaking up kept him from coming to terms with what he felt. But now, he was realizing that staying together would bring its own challenges as well.

Jinyoung looked over at him, face shifting. “Hey,” he reached out, cradling his neck. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out.”

And Mark could see all that hope reawaken in him. Like a light that couldn’t be diminished for more than a few moments. But Mark couldn’t help but think that maybe hope wasn’t enough. He could feel Jinyoung’s hand against his neck, warm like it was trying to melt through all the worry. “It just feels impossible sometimes.”

Jinyoung’s eyes brightened. “Impossible is having a child on the other side of the world you don’t know about for six years,” he smiled. “Impossible is finding her and finding out she’s absolutely perfect in every way.” 

Mark’s heart fluttered in his chest.

Jinyoung’s smile widened, the whites of his teeth flashing. “Impossible is falling in love with her father. Because he’s just like her. Absolutely perfect.”

And Mark couldn’t help but smile back. The heaviness of the conversation suddenly feeling miles away. At the way Jinyoung said that word with no hesitation in his voice, in his touch.

Jinyoung’s eyes were intent, trustworthy, as he pulled Mark in. “She’s safe. We’re safe,” he whispered. “Let’s just focus on that.” He kissed him carefully, saying so much with just a simple press of his lips.

And Mark felt warm all over. The heat of him burning through the doubt. Flooding with faith again. “Okay,” he murmured, lingering against his mouth before kissing him again.

Jinyoung pulled Mark close. Letting his head fall to his chest. “Go to sleep,” he soothed, running a hand down his back.

And there was only one thing Mark could do.

“I’ll try.”


	13. Thirteen.

The script, the role, the imminent idea of Jinyoung leaving, were not brought up the following week. Instead, Mark was trying to focus on all the overwhelming good in the foreground. The happy little life that had been created seemingly out of nothing. As if one day, they woke up and this is how it always was. The house providing them this sanctuary in which Jinyoung’s life in Korea, his past of not being there, didn’t even exist at all. And it didn’t help that Jinyoung himself seemed to only further the narrative. Because he didn’t bring up the script either. Mark had even walked in on him once, during the day, sitting out by the pool, annotating it. But Jinyoung had tried to cover it, holding it against his chest with both arms when Mark asked if he wanted some lunch. And though he didn’t address, it made Mark wonder if he was hiding it because it felt like something shameful.

Regardless, Jinyoung continued to help Sunny practice for her audition after her homework was complete. Running lines with her at the kitchen table, the living room, by the pool, before bed. Because she was so eager to get it right. To take to heart every little tip Jinyoung gave her. Mark had never seen her so determined. And Jinyoung so encouraging. So proud. And Mark found it hard to even think about that script when they were in front of his eyes.

A few days later, Mark and Jinyoung were standing at the back of the auditorium with Sunny as she waited to be called up for her audition. Mr. Choi and the two other first grade teachers were sitting at the front of the stage, watching each child come forward and say their lines. Some were able to do it with relative confidence while others seemed so shy and their voices seemed so low that Mark could see the empathy in Mr. Choi’s face when he said they did great and they should be very proud. Currently, Bambam was on stage, saying the lines like they came easy to him. And Mark could see Jaebeom and Jackson sitting in the audience with Yugyeom, both of them on the edge of their seats.

In his peripheral vision, he saw Sunny turn, burying her face into Jinyoung’s leg. 

Jinyoung squatted down to meet her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Sunny tried to hide her face. “I’m scared,” she said, muffled through her hands.

“Why are you scared?” Jinyoung asked, pulling her hands away.

“I don’t want to mess up. Not in front of my class. In front of you and Dad.”

“But we practiced so much Sunny,” Jinyoung laughed. “There’s no way you could mess it up.”

Her nervous little face didn’t seem as convinced.

Jinyoung tucked her long hair behind her ear. “Sunny. Take a deep breath with me. In.”

Her little chest filled.

“And out.”

She let it go, shoulders a little less high than before.

“What did I say?” he said softly, taking her hands. “When we practiced?”

Her eyes were wide and round. “Look at me. I’m here.”

“Mhmm,” he hummed through his smile. “So, you are going to go up there and do it just like we practiced. And you’re going to look at me, okay? Cause I’m here for you.”

Sunny looked down, fiddling with his fingers. “But what if I don’t do well?”

“You will do well,” Jinyoung assured. “And your dad and I are going to be so proud of you,” he looked to Mark, smiling. “Right?”

Mark felt his chest grow, reaching out to hold her face. “So proud,” he said, kissing her head. “We’re already so proud. There’s nothing you could do to change that.”

“Sunny Tuan,” Mr. Choi called from the stage. “Ready?”

“Go,” Jinyoung urged. “You got this. We’re here.”

And Sunny looked at both of them, a nervous smile on her face as she turned, running down the aisle toward the stage.

Jinyoung’s eyes followed her, standing up before looking over to Mark. “What?” he smiled. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Mark didn’t know he’d been looking at him like anything, but it didn’t surprise him either. “Nothing,” Mark said, reaching out to sling his arm around his hip. “I just-” he held his tongue. “Thank you. For helping her with this.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Jinyoung laughed, sliding his arm around his shoulder. “It’s not everyday you get to teach a little bit of your trade to your-” he stopped. “To your favorite kid.”

And Mark immediately knew what he nearly said. But he wasn’t quite sure what it made him feel. So he put it away, looking up toward the stage and seeing Youngjae’s eyes looking back. Something soft in them.

“Go Sunny!” Jaebeom shouted from his seat, drawing Mark’s attention away.

And when Sunny took a deep breath and started to speak her lines, she didn’t take her eyes off Jinyoung in the crowd.

After all the students had their turn, the teachers didn’t take long to make their decisions. Reading out the speaking roles one by one. And Mr. Choi smiled so big and bright when he read Sunny’s name for the part of the lumberjack. Jinyoung and Mark jostled her, telling her she did it, that they were proud, so proud. And Sunny looked like she might cry from happiness.

“Congrats, Sunny!” Jaebeom held up a high five when their family came up afterwards. “You’re going to be the best lumberjack.”

“Thank you, Uncle Jaebeom,” Sunny smiled, smacking his hand.

“What about me?” Bambam looked up at his dads.

“You’re going to be the best porcupine,” Jackson assured him. “Because you’re so prickly,” he tickled at his neck.

“Am not,” he whined, pulling away but smiling all the same.

“Yugyeom,” Jinyoung said. “I didn’t see you up there.”

“Oh, I didn’t audition,” Yugyeom shook his head. “I told Mr. Choi that I wanted to be a praying mantis. They don’t talk.”

“We’re going to make the costume together, right?” Jaebeom squeezed his small shoulder.

“Mhmm,” Yugyeom nodded with pride. “We’re going to make it as anatomically accurate as possible.” 

“And when you’re done,” Mark’s eyes went wide. “You could put it in your Baba’s closet to scare him.”

Jackson sighed, closing his eyes. “Please don’t give them ideas.”

“Babe, we would never,” Jaebeom said, winking at Mark. “Oh. We did want to ask. What are you doing this weekend?”

Mark looked over to Jinyoung, both of them shrugging, “No plans. Why?”

“We were going to go down to Newport Beach. Would you three want to come? The cabin we rented is big enough for all of us.”

“Dad!” Sunny gasped, grabbing Mark’s arm. “Can we please go? It was so fun last time. Please?”

“What’s in Newport Beach?” Jinyoung asked.

“Oh,” Mark looked to him, explaining. “They have a state park there. There are trails and the beach. We rented cabins there before. It’s really fun.”

“It’s really, really fun,” Sunny said. “Please say we can go.”

Mark looked up at Jackson. “Well, can Jinyoung and Milo join too?”

Mark watched Jackson’s jaw tighten just a fraction. “Well. I don’t know if there will be room-”

Jaebeom elbowed him in the ribs, causing Jackson to sputter. “Of course,” Jaebeom said, firmly. “Both of them are welcome.”

Mark smiled, “Sounds fun. Let’s do it.”

\---

After Sunny came home from school on Friday, they packed up the car and headed an hour south to Newport Beach. They pulled up to the cabin, letting themselves in. It was quaint, historic. Wood paneled walls that were painted soft yellow. Everything wicker and white and cozy. They put their things down in one of the rooms before going to a deck that looked over the beach. Jaebeom and Jackson were sitting with the boys at the table, playing a card game.

“They’re here!” Bambam yelled first. “With Milo,” he ran for the puppy, reaching out to hold his head tightly between his hands.

“What are you guys doing?” Mark asked.

“We were just waiting for you,” Jaebeom said. “But,” he looked at his watch. “I think we have enough time before sunset to do a little hike, if you want.”

And so they went for a hike along the canyon trail, up into the hills that peaked over the edge of the water. Jinyoung held onto Milo’s leash as the puppy explored, chasing at the jackrabbits that tried to cross the trail. While Sunny took pictures with her instant camera, letting Mark collect the photos as they processed between his fingers. Of the ocean view, the flora, the coyote in the distance.

Yugyeom was holding onto Jackson’s hand, eyes peeled and ready to spot any special desert insects.

Bambam had found a large branch towards the beginning of the trail, using it as a walking stick and playing tour guide as he led the group, spouting off facts that were obviously made up. “This here is a double rainbow bush,” he said, pointing to a dry brush of grass.

“And why is it called a double rainbow bush, Bam?” Jackson asked.

“Because,” he said. “It only blooms with flowers when there is a double rainbow.”

“Of course. I think I read that in a guidebook, too,” he winked to the adults.

Jaebeom hung back enough until he was walking at Mark’s side. “Oh, there you are.”

Mark rolled his eyes. “Yes, Jaebeom?” he sighed, letting the group walk a little further ahead.

Jaebeom shrugged, “Just. You know. Checking in.”

Mark huffed, shaking the film in his hands. “All is good. Everything is fine.”

“I have to ask,” Jaebeom’s voice got lower. “I saw something. About Jinyoung being cast in a new movie.”

Mark took a deep breath in. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Very happy for him.”

“And when exactly is he going to be filming that?”

“In a few weeks.”

“And,” Jaebeom nearly tripped over a loose stone, trying to watch Mark’s expression. “You’re okay with that?”

Mark shrugged, “It’s his job, Jaebeom. I don’t really have a choice.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Mark went silent, sneaking a look at Jinyoung as he pulled Milo away from eating a clod of dirt. “I’m figuring it out. We’re figuring it out. One step at a time.” He looked back, seeing Jaebeom smiling genuinely at him.

“Appa! Baba!”

“What, Yug-” Jaebeom looked up, stilling where he stood. 

Mark looked at him confused, looking up and seeing Bambam pointing emphatically with the end of his walking stick.

“Look!” he exclaimed. “It’s a rattlesnake!”

Milo was barking at the end of his leash at the coiled up snake, rattling its tail at them.

“Bam!” Jackson ran forward, pulling him back. “Don’t get too close. Let it pass.”

And sure enough, the rattlesnake relaxed, hurriedly slithering across the path and into the bushes.

Mark looked back to Jaebeom who was still frozen and slack-jawed where he stood. He stared at him curiously. “Fear of snakes, Jaebeom?”

“He,” Jaebeom’s voice was quiet. “He’s never called us that before.”

“What?”

“He was just calling us by our first names before,” his shoulders sank.

And Mark looked to Bam who was currently getting his face mauled with kisses by Jackson.

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” he repeated as he kissed all over his full cheeks.

“Stop,” Bambam whined, smiling as he tried to push them away. “Baba, stop.”

Jaebeom came forward, throwing his arms around both of them. “Bammie,” he smiled. “We just love you so much.”

“I know, I know,” he surrendered, letting himself be hugged.

And Yugyeom grabbed Mark’s free hand, squinting up at him. “My family is kind of weird.”

Mark smiled. “The good kind of weird, Yugyeom. Just like your bugs.”

“Come on,” Jaebeom said, pulling away from his husband and Bambam. “Let’s finish this hike so we can get back and grill up some food.”

\---

The next morning, Mark and Jinyoung let Jaebeom and Jackson sleep in while they took the kids and Milo to the beach. Off the coast, surfers took to the waves, one after the other. But in the shallower waters where the waves ascended up the smooth sand before dragging away, the trio played in the white foam. Yugyeom was picking up handfuls of sand, tossing them at Bambam and Sunny. Bambam screamed the loudest while Sunny tried to dive for Yugyeom’s legs, eager to pull him down. All of them careful not to get Yugyeom’s cast wet.

Mark and Jinyoung were sitting on a blanket. Jinyoung playing tug of war with Milo and one of his toys, while Mark was laying at his side, watching them play.

Jinyoung looked over, his hand falling away from the toy as Milo bounced as far as his leash would let him, happily chewing the toy from his spot on the warm sand. And Jinyoung’s eyes kept staring down at Mark, his smile growing.

Mark squinted up at him, “What?”

Jinyoung shook his head. “Why do I feel like I’ll never get tired of this?”

“Of what?”

Jinyoung laid on his side, letting them come face to face. “The sun. The ocean. Sunny. You,”

Mark huffed. “Not Milo?”

“Of course, Milo,” Jinyoung reached for the puppy, pulling him up to his chest and kissing his white fluffy head. The dog, in return, licking at his chin. 

Mark couldn’t deny that it was cute. He reached out, scratching at Milo’s head. “You must really love the water.”

Jinyoung shrugged, “What’s not to like?”

Mark’s hand went up, cradling Jinyoung’s face. Feeling the warmth of his imminent tan soaking through his skin. “You’re just like her,” he smiled. “You know that?”

Jinyoung hesitated, shaking his head. “I’m not,” he said, modestly.

Mark thumbed at the crinkles of his eye, down to the corner of his mouth. “Your eyes and your smile,” he started to list, that hand dragging down to his neck. “Your hopefulness. Your persistence. Your-”

But that was as far as he got before Jinyoung was silencing him with a press of his lips. Soft yet tacky with the lingering salt in the air. Lingering just long enough before he pulled away, looking down at him.

Mark bit his lip, feeling overcome with fondness. “Well,” he huffed, fingers slipping down to his chest. “You both do love the water.”

Jinyoung smiled. “Then, I guess she got the right name.”

“What do you mean?” Mark’s brow creased.

“Haeseon,” Jinyoung said. “It suits her. Don’t you think?”

Mark shook his head. “I don’t know the meaning.”

His eyes went a little wider. “Really?” he seemed surprised. “You never asked Jaebeom?”

Mark watched him. “Tell me.”

Jinyoung’s mouth tugged at the corner. “It's from the words hae, which means sea. And seonmul. Gift.”

Mark connected the words in his head, repeating them outloud in a whisper. “Gift of the sea.”

Jinyoung nodded. The moment stretching out between them. Charged enough that Mark was wondering if Jinyoung would kiss him again. But he seemed content with staring, smiling. Brighter than the sun arcing over them from the east.

Mark took a breath. “Fitting, I guess,” he said. “Considering she came all the way from across the ocean for me.” He reached for Jinyoung’s hand, letting their fingers slot together and feeling the grit of the sand there. “Another way you’re like her.”

Jinyoung leaned closer, hovering. “I guess you’re right,” he murmured before kissing him again.

\---

When they got back from the beach, Mark and Sunny laid down in the room, exhausted from the sun. Mark hadn’t intended to fall asleep but nevertheless, when he opened his eyes again, it was dusk and he was alone. He struggled to get up, still heavy with sleep and sun, coming out into the kitchen and seeing a note on the counter.

_We took the kids to catch fireflies on the trail. Be back in a couple of hours._

Mark smiled at the idea of the kids, bug nets and jars, trying to stay still and quiet to not scare the bugs off. And he was lost in that thought for a moment when he heard something. Raising his head and stilling as he strained his ears to hear it again. Soft singing, emanating from the bathroom.

He went to the bathroom, leaning his ear up against the door as he started to make out the sound of Jinyoung’s singing, echoing against the bathroom walls He carefully twisted the knob, peeking inside. 

Mark could feel the wave of humidity hit him. The air was visibly thick with steam, fogging the mirrors and windows. The bathroom itself matched the historic quaintness of the rest of the cottage with its blue and white Spanish tiles that spread across the floor and up much of the walls. Mark’s eyes traveled up the clawfoot tub, starting at its golden feet and ending somewhere between Jinyoung’s glistening bare shoulders and his dripping hair. He was spreading the suds down his arm with his hand, singing some sweet sounding song under his breath.

Mark came in, closing the door softly behind him and coming up to the edge of the tub, letting his hands run up Jinyoung’s shoulders and feeling them jolt as the singing stopped.

Jinyoung looked up at him, nearly upside down. His face relaxing when their eyes met. “You’re up.”

“I am,” Mark smiled, coming around and sitting cross-legged on tile, at the edge of the tub. “You sound like you’re having fun.”

Jinyoung huffed, sinking his arm under the water, brushing the suds away and watching their shimmery remnants swirl at the surface. “I don’t have a bath back home.”

“Which home?”

Jinyoung looked up, eyes sparkling. “Either.”

Mark folded his hands against the edge of the tub, resting his head on top of them. “Should we get you one?”

Jinyoung’s teeth showed through, all white and pretty. The makings of a laugh stitched between them before he seemed to get distracted, reaching out to hold Mark’s face between his wet hands. “You’re sunburned.”

Mark smelled the soap on his skin, feeling lightheaded from the steam. “Am I?” 

Jinyoung pressed his thumbs into his cheeks and Mark could feel the prick of a thousand microscopic needles just grazing the surface. “You feel so hot,” Jinyoung murmured. “Come here.”

Mark let his face be dragged closer, his eyes closing as he felt Jinyoung place a kiss on his cheek. Drawing away slowly and kissing the other one. Angling his face down to land one between his brows. On his bridge of his nose, before settling one on his lips. Lingering there so long that Mark felt that lightheadedness spin his head like a plate. Mesmerized by the way that kissing him, after a hundred kisses, more than that, could still make him feel like it was the first time.

Unconsciously, Mark leaned in, entranced by the smell of him, the feeling of him. Chasing his mouth and his taste without thought. But when he did, he carelessly leaned too far, hands against the porcelain slipping until he was tumbling forward into the tub. The water cascading outwards, cresting over the edge and onto the floor as Mark’s loose clothes soaked with water.

“Mark,” Jinyoung laughed loudly, his hands pushing against Mark’s chest.

But Mark wasn’t deterred, his hands going up to Jinyoung’s face to draw him closer, to kiss him again. Taking Jinyoung’s open, giggling mouth as the invitation to lick behind his smile.

And Jinyoung’s arms circled around his waist, feeling the way his shirt clouded around his body under the water. He drew him into his lap, kissing him back.

Mark’s knees slotted on either side of him as he craned his head, kissing him deeper. Fingers running through his wet hair to push it away from his face. Pulling back just to look at him. All glistening and bare and no longer smiling, just watching him. Fluently speaking in their silent little languages that didn’t need words. Eyes sparkling and lips parting and Mark just couldn’t take it.

Mark’s fingers trailed down him, following the line of his body and settling in his lap. Pressing firmly against him. Watching the way his mouth fell more open, eyebrows drawing together, further encouraging Mark to wrap his fingers around him. To feel the thrill of Jinyoung’s blood rushing, filling him out as he started to work against him.

Jinyoung shuddering, sinking a little deeper into the water in an effort to kick his hips further up into Mark’s grip. Fisting a hand into Mark’s wet shirt to draw him down again. To kiss him hungrily as the soft passion distorted quickly into eager desperation.

Mark let Jinyoung bite and hiss into his mouth, his hands nearly clawing at him. Only emboldening him to work him more intently, slowing the pace of his hand down in a way that he knew Jinyoung would nearly loathe.

And sure enough, after a while, Jinyoung was pulling away from his mouth. “Mark,” he whined, clutching at his neck. “Don’t do this to me, again.” 

Mark laughed, low and dark and close to his face. “What then?” he asked, hand still closed around him. “What do you want?” 

Jinyoung’s hand slid up his jaw, clutching around his chin. “You know when,” he licked his lips. “I had the ice cream on my fingers. And you…” his voice trailed off, too shy to say it.

Mark smiled, grabbing his wrist with his free hand. “Like this?” he said, letting his mouth fall open as he slipped Jinyoung’s fingers inside. Dragging them against his tongue and curling around them.

Jinyoung groaned at the sight. “But,” he whimpered.

And Mark knew what he meant but he also wanted to hear him say it. “What is it?” he asked, voice going soft before he plunged Jinyoung’s fingers deeper into his mouth, tightened his other hand around his cock.

Jinyoung groaned again, getting increasingly frustrated. “Fucking suck me off, Mark,” he whined.

Mark laughed again, pulling Jinyoung’s fingers away, pulling his hand off of him. “Get up,” he demanded, beckoning to the edge of the tub.

And Jinyoung looked so miserable, shoulders caved inward as he grabbed onto the lip of the tub. He hoisted himself up, leaning up against the tile wall.

And Mark sat between his knees, looking up at him. All naked and soaking wet. Soapy water cascading down every plane of skin. But Mark’s eyes kept landing in the same place. His flushed cock against his stomach.

He came closer, hands working up his muscled calves, his thighs. His pretty slim legs that looked so good in his swimsuit every time. Those hands moved into his lap, one resting firmly at his hip while the other closed up around his cock. Biting down on his smile and looking up at him as he started working it again.

Jinyoung’s brows drew together as he held Mark’s gaze, leaning back into that wall and letting one hand comb into Mark’s hair.

Mark could feel the trickle of water mix with the seeping precum, dripping down his fist. He brought his face closer, lapping at the trail it left on his wrist, tongue working closer and closer. Watching as Jinyoung’s brows tightened even harder, needier.

Mark’s tongue traced at the tip of his cock, swirling against the head. Hand guiding him into his mouth as his lips closed around him. He tongued generously at the slit, working his mouth a little deeper.

Jinyoung’s shoulders fell, his body falling more open as his mouth fell open too. The hand in his hair going a little more insistent. “Damn it, Mark,” he hissed. 

Mark just smiled, working deeper. Torturously slow and relaxed despite his zealous tongue curling around him. Baited on by the neediness of his reactions.

But Jinyoung’s will seemed to be wearing thin as his hand went tighter around the back of Mark’s head. His eyes closed, his arm tightening as he dragged him with a pull of taut muscle.

Mark’s hand went to the one Jinyoung had gripping around the edge of the tub, pulling his wrist up and resettling it in his hair. Watching the man’s eyes look down, glassy and dark as he tangled his fingers at his locks, experimentally at first. Mark’s hands slid up the underside of his thighs, gripping around on the curve of his ass as he felt the pull of Jinyoung’s hands sink his mouth down around him. One time at first. And then again. And again. Setting a firmer pace.

And Mark didn’t fight it. In fact, he followed it, letting his jaw go a little more slack as he succumbed to the pace he was keenly setting. Clenching his splayed fingers into his firm ass and savoring the fragrant taste of him.

Jinyoung’s thighs quivered around Mark’s head, knees widening even more to keep bringing his mouth down around him.

Mark could feel his lips dripping with saliva down his chin, all of it coating Jinyoung and easing the slide of his mouth until it was like one fluid motion that Jinyoung kept executing. So ruthlessly that it made Mark moan around him. 

Jinyoung groaned. Screwing his eyes shut leaning up against the tile. His chest shuddering with each heavy exhale. The sheen on his skin and the fog in the air more sweat than bathwater now.

And god, it was good. Because just watching him so desperate and eager for Mark was better than any fever dream he could think of. And he had the feeling deep inside that no one could ever compare to him, compare to them when they were like this.

Jinyoung’s hands started to shake in Mark’s hair, matching the trembling of his legs.

And Mark could feel the way he was so close. Only encouraging him more. To go deeper, grip him tighter. Looking up and seeing his eyes back on him, bleary and transfixed on Mark’s mouth. And Mark moaned again, obscene and wanton.

Jinyoung’s fingers went slack when he cried out, slipping down to Mark’s neck and holding him against his cock as he leaned into him, spilling into his mouth. Hands falling away as he leaned back against the tile, shoulders slumping.

Mark sucked him clean, pulling off of him and smiling as he swallowed the warm seed. His hands pulling at Jinyoung’s knees and hips until he was slipping back down into the tub where the water had already gone too cool.

Mark crowded him against it. Laughing at the exasperated expression on his face. “Too much?” he asked, kissing at his neck.

“Yes,” Jinyoung breathed, using the last of his strength to turn Mark in his arms, laying his back against his chest.

Mark lay between his knees, feeling the rise and fall of his chest even out. Closing his eyes when he felt Jinyoung’s fingers tug at the collar of his drenched t-shirt, pulling it wide enough to expose his shoulders. 

“These are sunburned, too,” he murmured, before kissing them.

Mark looked back at him. “We should get out before the brat pack comes.”

And so they got out, dried, dressed, going out and sitting on the deck. The porch swing overlooked the ocean and Mark could feel Jinyoung’s hand in his wet hair as he laid in his lap. Softly brushing through it with his fingers. Even through the darkness, they could hear the sound of the waves crashing in the background, crickets hiding out in the bushy dunes below them. The crashing and chirping and hands in his hair, lulling him into a place so peaceful, he didn’t want to leave.

Jinyoung stopped. 

Mark twisted in his lap, looking up at him. Seeing the tightness pulled against his features. “What?”

Jinyoung spoke in a whisper, just audible over the crashing. “I wanna take you home.”

Mark smiled, “We’ll go home tomorrow.”

“My home,” Jinyoung said. “I wanna take you and Sunny there.”

And Mark’s brows furrowed together. “Are you being serious?”

Jinyoung bit his lip. “She has spring break next month. I’ll be filming.”

Mark looked up at him, seeing all the hesitancy tightening his face. And he wanted to give in. To make him smile, but he just couldn’t. “I don’t know, Jinyoung. That’s a lot.”

His features started to fall, voice growing weaker. “It would be fun.”

Mark looked back at him. Thinking.

Jinyoung’s hand went back to his hair. “I don’t want to go that long without seeing you,” he nearly croaked, throat growing wet.

Mark could feel his will being pulled tight. Like Jinyoung’s hold on his restraint was being squeezed, suffocated. Until all it could see were the stars in Jinyoung’s eyes. The glossy, hopeful tears that he wanted to clear away with blind, impulsive agreement. 

Because he wanted more than anything to give that to him, to turn those tears into smiles, into laughter, into kisses. But he felt himself regress into some past version of himself. Feeling all the hesitancy he’d had when Jinyoung first showed up on his doorstep. The distrustful way he dealt out Sunny, dealt out himself in bits and pieces, because he didn’t trust him from the start. And certainly, it was different now. At least in some ways, right? But there were still those small doubts that sat somewhere in the darker parts of Mark’s mind, unnamed and unacknowledged. Feeling like cobwebs he’d meant to clear out a long time ago but never got around to doing.

Mark was about to speak, on the edge of some words that he hadn’t thought through when the old wood floors started to creak with the small footsteps getting closer. 

“Dad, Jinyoung!” Sunny shouted as she rushed through the door to the deck. “Look!” And she held up a jar. A half dozen little fireflies floating around, intermittently glowing lime green.

Mark sat up, taking the jar from her hands. “That’s so neat, Sunny!” he said, throwing himself into a moment he knew how to be present for. “Were they easy to catch?”

“Not too bad,” she shrugged. “They fly pretty slow. So we got the hang of it after a while. We are going to let them go but I wanted to show you first.” And she looked over to Jinyoung, coming over to lean both hands into his lap. “Jinyoung,” she said, brows drawing together. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he rushed to say. “I’m just sleepy. That’s all.”

\---

The gang went home the next day, a fun weekend had by all. Sunny went back to school, Mark went back to work, Jinyoung went back to hiding in the corners of the house in order to work with his script in private. Jinyoung didn’t bring up what he said on the porch again, but regardless, Mark couldn’t stop thinking about it, picturing it. Feeling the innate anxiety that boiled up alongside his concerns. Too many to count. Because bringing Jinyoung into his space, to develop his relationship with Sunny on his terms, felt like something contained, manageable. Changes that were small enough, gradual enough for her to adapt too. For him to adapt to as well. 

But Seoul wasn’t Mark’s house. It wasn’t even his country. And when he tried to picture it, it felt amorphous, massive, unsettling. Such a drastic change in scenery for Sunny, for him, that he wasn’t sure if he was ready for it. 

They were finishing up dinner one night, Sunny helping Jinyoung clear the table. He took all the dirty plates from her, putting them into the sink. “Sunny,” he said. “We need to water the peace lily from Daddy’s bedroom. Can you go get it?”

“Mhmm,” she hummed, zooming away and up the stairs.

Mark watched him from the kitchen table for a moment before getting up. “Let me help you,” he said, coming up behind him and grabbing a wet plate from his hands to dry.

And they worked in silence for a few moments, before Jinyoung spoke. “I bought my plane ticket.”

Mark could feel the subtle churn of his stomach. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“So,” Mark put another dish away, leaning up against the counter to look at him. “When are you leaving?”

“Two weeks,” he said, glancing sideways at him. 

“Are you ready?” Mark asked. “For your role?”

He nodded, “I will be.” He scrubbed away at a bowl, his brows drawn together in concentration. 

The sounds of running water filling the breach of silence.

“Have you thought about what I said?”

And Mark knew what he was talking about immediately. “I’m still thinking.”

Jinyoung’s expression softened, along with his voice. “It’s not the worst idea.”

“I know,” Mark nodded. “I just want to make sure it’s the best idea. For her. You know. Because it’s a lot.”

“I’m sure she’d want to go.”

Mark looked at him seriously. “That doesn’t mean it’s the right thing.”

“Well,” Jinyoung said. “If you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

Mark wanted desperately to change the topic, but he only had one thing on his mind. “You’ll be gone a long time,” he said, grabbing another dish to dry.

“Yeah,” Jinyoung agreed with a sigh. “Two months. If nothing gets delayed.”

There was a crash. So sharp and abrupt that both Jinyoung and Mark whipped their heads to look. Milo jolting up from where he’d been chewing his bone on the floor to give a panicked bark. And in the doorway of the kitchen, Sunny stood. The peace lily pot shattered at her feet into half a dozen clay shards. Her face stunned, eyes wide and mouth open and brows drawn up in the middle.

“You’re leaving?” Her voice holding shock and anguish. Cutting like a knife.

Jinyoung’s shoulders fell. “Sunny,” he breathed, taking a step towards her.

But before he could reach her, she took off. Turning back, going for the hall and towards her room.

“Wait,” Jinyoung took off after her.

But she was too fast, slamming the door of her room, locking it from the inside.

“Sunny!” Jinyoung knocked against the door, exasperated. “Come out. Please. Let’s talk about this.” He knocked more. Desperate to coax her out.

Mark looked down, seeing Milo at his feet looking up in unsettled confusion. He reached down, petting him once before going to the hall. Only able to stand the sight of Jinyoung hopelessly trying to call for her for a few long moments. Feeling an ache of empathy for him. Because he’d been there before. He reached out, grabbing his shoulder gently. “Hey.”

Jinyoung’s eyes went to him, holding all of that panic he was feeling.

The ache deepened. He drew him in, hugging him close. “Let her have her moment,” he murmured. “She’ll come out when she’s ready.”

Jinyoung was stiff for a moment, trying to calm his breathing, before reaching out and clinging onto Mark.

\---

It was the middle of the night when Mark woke up, looking to his side and seeing Milo curled up in Jinyoung’s vacant space. And though when he had retired for the night, he remembered Jinyoung saying he’d only wait for a few more minutes to see if Sunny came out, he looked to the clock and realized it had been hours. He sighed, rolling out of bed and going downstairs to the kitchen. 

His eyes were cast down as he flicked on the lights, seeing that cloudy brown spot on the tile from where Sunny had dropped the plant. His eyes trailing up to the kitchen table where the peace lily sat, slanting haphazardly in the glass jar it had been temporarily relocated to. Jinyoung was laying on the kitchen table, head resting on his folded arms. His eyes were closed, asleep. Face still strained, eyebrows knitted together and jaw set tight like he was having a bad dream.

Mark came forward, leaning down to kiss his temple. “Jinyoung,” he whispered. “Wake up.”

The man stirred quickly. “What?” he sat up, blinking his bleary eyes. “What time is it?” he asked, throat rough.

“Late.”

He rubbed his tired eyes. “Did she come out?”

Mark shook his head. “She’s probably asleep,” he said, combing down his messy hair.

“I just,” Jinyoung wistfully looked off toward where her room was. “Want to talk to her.”

“I know,” Mark nodded. “But it can wait till tomorrow.” He grabbed his arm, beckoning him up. “Come on.” He pulled Jinyoung up the stairs, laying him down in bed and tucking him in.

“Tell me it will be okay,” Jinyoung murmured, settling into the sheets. His eyes already closing again, fading back into sleep.

Mark smiled to himself. “It will be okay,” he nodded. “She doesn’t stay mad forever.” 

Milo pawed at Mark’s ankle, giving a whine.

Mark looked down at the puppy, sighing. “I’ll be back,” he smoothed a hand down Jinyoung’s back before turning off the light. Milo trailing behind him as he went back downstairs. He turned into the kitchen, looking up to see the light from the fridge pouring out across the tile. He looked up, seeing Sunny standing on her tiptoes, arm reaching up to try to grab something on the highest shelf.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Can I help you?”

She turned quickly, looking back with wide eyes like a deer caught in headlights. “No.”

He sighed, leaning in the doorway. “I was going to let Milo out and make a grilled cheese,” he said. “Do you want one?”

She considered. “Okay.”

And so Mark opened the glass door for Milo before flicking the kitchen lights on. Going to the fridge and taking out the bread, the cheese, the butter. Starting to cook for both of them.

Sunny went to the table, taking a seat and watching him. Quiet and waiting. Letting Milo jump into her lap when he came back inside.

When Mark was finished, he brought two plates to the table, sitting down next to her. They ate in silence. Mark watched as she thoroughly devoured it. Wondering if she was drained from being awake. From being upset. Leaving only crumbs on her plate that Milo was trying to crane his head to lick at. 

“Feel better?” he asked.

“No,” she said. Her shoulders still hunched, expression still troubled as she petted the puppy’s head.

Mark moved their plates to the side, out of Milo’s reach, leaning his chin into his hands. “Why are you mad?”

Sunny fiddled with Milo’s collar. “Dad. He can’t go,” she shook her head. “He can’t just keep leaving.”

“Why not?”

Sunny went quiet. Shrinking smaller and smaller. Eyes casting down into Milo’s.

Mark reached out, drawing her chin up. “Because you’ll miss him?”

Her eyes rolled around in her head, averting to nowhere in particular. “Yeah,” she admitted, reluctantly.

Mark dropped his hand away. Looking at her. Knowing how she felt. And knowing that the way he’d been trying to cope, ignoring the facts, stuffing the emotions away, that wouldn’t settle her anymore than it had settled Mark. He sighed. “Baby, come here,” he put Milo to the floor, reaching out to grab her and pull her into his lap. 

She didn’t fight it, just leaned into his chest.

Mark put his chin to her head, hugging tightly around her. “Daddy will miss him, too.”

“He can’t go,” she repeated, a little weaker this time. “This is his home.”

Mark pulled away, looking down at her. “Why do you say that?”

“Because we love him,” she urged. “And we take care of him. And he takes care of us. And those are good things. Those are things that make it home.”

Mark couldn’t help but smile. Feeling the sweetness of her words and knowing there was truth in them. “But in Korea, he gets to do a job he really loves. And he gets to see his mom and dad. And he gets to speak his first language. Eat his favorite foods. And those are good things, too, right?”

She looked down into her fingers, working them against each other. Voice going small again, “I guess.”

“Jinyoung has two homes,” he offered. “But he only has one Sunny. And he’s just as sad about leaving you.”

Her face went even softer. “Is he?”

“Of course,” Mark smiled. “He loves you so much. And it breaks his heart to have to leave. But he doesn’t always have a choice. He needs to work. Just like Daddy needs to work. Just like Sunny needs to go to school.”

Sunny’s face was still bothered, distant and pensive.

“Hey,” Mark said, watching her look back up at him. “What did he say last time?”

Sunny shook her head, not remembering.

Mark remembered the words he had heard Jinyoung speak when he’d stood outside the door, eavesdropping on their conversation. “He said he loves you. And that he’d be thinking of you every moment until he came back,” he smiled. “And it’s still true. I know it. Okay?”

And while she still didn’t seem fully settled, she surrendered as much as she could, nodding. “Okay.” 

Mark tucked her hair behind her ear. “How tired are you going to be tomorrow for school?”

She looked back at him, shrugging her shoulders.

He huffed, “Well, maybe you can stay home, then. Just this once.”

He watched her mouth turn up into a smile.

“Nevertheless,” he sighed, pushing his chair back. “Let’s get you and Milo to bed.”

\---

When Mark woke up the next morning, Jinyoung’s side of the bed was nothing more than an outline in the sheets. He sighed, getting up and going downstairs. Seeing coffee already on the kitchen counter for him but no trace of life in the house otherwise. Not even Milo’s paws scampering across the floors.

He waited around, having some time to himself, before his phone dinged. He checked it, seeing a message from Jackson.

_You never told us about Disney._

And Jackson had attached a link to an article, the photo the same one that Jinyoung took with those fans in the park. Their faces blurred but his clear.

Mark’s eyes went to the headline.

_Actor Park Jinyoung Enjoying His Extended Stay in Los Angeles as Fans Theorize On The Reason For His Unexplained Hiatus_

Mark didn’t read further.

_We can talk the next time I see you._

He responded, before casting his phone aside. He fit his hands into his hair, trying to ignore the vicious churn of his stomach. Knowing that Jinyoung needed to return to Seoul sooner rather than later, if not to work, just to avoid the public growing suspicious of him.

He heard the sound of the front door opening. Milo first bounding in, hopping up to Mark’s feet. “Morning, Milo,” he sighed, petting the dog before looking up to the door.

Jinyoung and Sunny came in, bags in hand. Both of them with wide smiles across their faces.

“Where were you three?” Mark asked, standing up.

“Dad!” Sunny ran up. “We went to the plant nursery to get a new pot. You should have seen all the plants they had there. And Jinyoung let me get a new one. Here. I’ll show you.” And she zoomed to the kitchen to put down her bag.

Jinyoung came up, moving his bag to his other hand as he reached up for Mark’s neck, kissing his forehead. “Morning,” he murmured, voice happy and warm again.

And it made Mark smile immediately. “Morning,” he responded. “Everything, okay then?”

Jinyoung smiled. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Everything is okay.”

Mark released a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

“I’m glad.”


	14. Fourteen.

The weekend held another soccer game as well as a rare heat wave for southern California spring that brought the temperatures into the nineties. The coaches and parents alike were sweating up a storm in the sweltering heat as the kids ran around with considerably less care. All the while, Jaebeom and Mark were doing their job, keeping the players hydrated from their spot on the sideline.

“What are you guys doing for spring break?” Mark asked, twisting open a bottle of water and pouring some out for a panting Milo to lap up.

Jaebeom was fanning himself with a book. “It’s my mother’s birthday actually. So I was going to surprise her and take the boys to go see her for the week.”

“Just you?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Jackson has some stuff for work. He’s bummed about missing Bambam’s first time, but what can you do?” He looked over, “What are your plans? Jinyoung’s leaving soon, right?”

“Yeah, next week,” Mark adjusted the brim of his cap, trying to keep the brutal sun out of his eyes. “He asked me if Sunny and I could visit him during spring break.”

“Woah,” Jaebeom blinked, the corner of his mouth tugging upward. “What do you think about that?”

Mark didn’t have a good answer. “I don’t know,” he defaulted to. “It’s a lot to ask.”

“Is it?” Jaebeom squinted.

“Yeah,” Mark rushed to the first excuse he could manage. “You know traveling internationally with a kid isn’t easy.”

“You’ll have help once you get there.”

“You don’t know that,” Mark shook his head. “He’ll probably be working.”

“Bring her to set,” Jaebeom said easily.

“I’m not bringing her to set,” Mark glared at him. “Hardly a place for a child.”

“Well,” Jaebeom shrugged. “It would be nice for Sunny to see. And we could hang out together. I could show you around a bit.”

And Mark kept quiet, watching the game but still thinking.

After a close match, the team ended up losing. But despite it, Jaebeom and Jackson pushed for a celebration back at their house, saying that they’d order pizza for all the players and parents. 

Mark was sitting on the deck with Jinyoung and Jaebeom and a few other parents, chatting and watching the kids and Milo play on the lawn when Jackson gripped his shoulder, pressing down against the dampness of his sweaty t-shirt. Mark looked up at him.

He beckoned his head inside, “Can you help me bring out the pizzas?”

And Mark immediately knew what he was about to walk into. Taking in a breath feeling his chest tighten with it. He nodded, excusing himself from the table and following him into the kitchen where the sudden change of temperature from the air conditioning made him shiver. As soon as he walked in, he saw that the counters were clear and the pizza hadn’t yet arrived, confirming his suspicions.

He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “What do you want, Jackson?” he sighed, exasperated.

“Nothing,” Jackson shrugged, expressionless face already reading annoyed. “I was just surprised you didn’t tell us about Disney.”

Mark felt the nearly instantaneous defensiveness rise up in response. “Yeah,” he said, flatly. “We had a good time.”

Jackson wiped the dappling of sweat off his forehead, “And you saw some of Jinyoung’s fans?”

“It was just the two girls,” Mark shook his head. “They just wanted to get their picture and move on. Someone probably just shared it to the press from their social media. It’s not their fault.”

“Maybe not this time,” Jackson tilted his head. “But what if they had taken photos of you and Sunny with him?”

“What if, what if, what if?” Mark rolled his eyes. “Jackson. Come on. What’s it even matter? If they took those pictures and released them, what would they even prove?”

“What would they prove?” he asked, eyes going wider and voice going louder. “That he’s in a relationship. With someone who has a kid. A kid that looks an awful lot like _him_ and not _you_.”

Mark felt the way Jackson was trying to provoke him, get a rise out of him. And he should have just walked away, ignored him like he usually did. But it all felt so targeted and Mark was already stressed about the weight of the possible trip that he just felt himself stand straighter, readying himself to meet Jackson’s tone. “What do you want me to do?” he snapped. “Break up with him?”

Jackson huffed a callous laugh. “You don’t have to,” he sneered, raising his brows. “He’s already leaving. Jaebeom told me he’s going back to do a movie.”

Mark glared at him, hating all that sudden cruelty in his voice. “What is your problem? Why are you so caught up on this?” he hissed.

“Because I care about you!” he boomed. “And you don’t seem to realize that from the outside looking in, it just looks like you both are just doing this with absolutely no plan. Like you are just hooking up without thinking about where this could go. How it could hurt Sunny in the long run.”

Mark groaned. “Stop doing that thing!”

Jackson’s face screwed. “What thing?”

“You just want me to do what _you_ think is best,” he fumed. “Fuck what I want, right? Fuck what I think.”

Jackson’s jaw tightened, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s not just about-”

“You always think you know best,” Mark barreled through him. “Whether it’s me or Yugyeom or Bambam.”

“Hey,” Jackson pointed a finger at him. “Don’t bring them into this.”

“Why not?” Mark threw his arms. “It’s true. I know it. Your husband knows it. You keep trying to make them into sports stars when that’s not what they want. Hell, poor Jaebeom has to lie to keep Yugyeom off the soccer team.”

“What are you-”

“Face it, Jackson. They don’t want to be like you,” he narrowed his eyes. “And I don’t blame them.”

Jackson’s fire smoldered, everything about him holding a quiet, seething rage. His eyes shooting daggers straight through him. “You’re going to get hurt, Mark,” he said, nearly gloating. “You’re going to get hurt and _I’m_ going to have to pick you up.”

Mark bit through his words. “You won’t have to pick up shit, because you’re not my friend.” He turned around, starting to head back to the deck.

“He’s leaving you, Mark,” Jackson called out. “He’s leaving the country.”

Mark felt the heat wave everywhere, incinerating all sense as the final misled impulse to have the last word roared to life. He turned around to face him. “And I’m going with him,” he thundered. “Sunny and I both are.”

Jackson’s face fell, flooding with confusion. “What?”

“Dad!” a bright little voice ran out as the scamper of feet got closer.

Mark looked down, seeing Sunny’s wide smile as she reached for his hand, staring to pull him. “Dad. Come outside. Jinyoung taught Milo a new trick. You have to see it.”

Mark took a final glance at Jackson’s shocked face before he let himself get pulled outside. His mind rushing. Still riding the high of his anger. Replaying the words he said, only now feeling the weight of them against him. Realizing latently what he’d just declared. And as Sunny started to drag him down the stairs toward the lawn, he felt a foolish urgency take hold. Like he knew that if he lingered anymore in the thought, he might second-guess himself and be unable to deliver on what he said he’d do.

“Hey,” he called. “Sunny, stop.” He grabbed her shoulder, drawing her back as he squatted down in front of her.

“Yeah?” she looked back at him, losing that smile on her face.

Mark held both her hands, thumbs feeling their softness. His mind still moving too fast as he tried to speak over the heightening of doubt. “You know you have spring break coming up soon?”

“Mhmm,” she nodded, holding a tight apprehension between her brows.

Mark reached up, tucking a loose piece of hair behind her ear. “How would you like to go see Jinyoung?” he tried to force a smile, too much hostility, too much heat, still thrumming through him for it to be genuine.

“What?” her eyes widened.

“How would you like to go to Korea?”

“Dad,” she groaned, pushing his shoulder with her small strength. “Don’t joke around.”

“I’m not,” Mark shook his head. “I’m serious. Let’s go.”

Sunny’s smile brightened all the way up to her eyes. Those little whiskers she shared with Jinyoung deepening. “Oh my god!” she gasped, reaching forward to wrap her arms around Mark’s neck. “Thankyouthankyouthankyou!”

Mark choked at the sudden embrace before settling his arms around her. “Of course, baby.” He looked up, seeing Jackson standing on the deck. His eyes squinted in the sun and his arm crossed over his chest. “It will be so much fun.”

“Jinyoung!” Sunny yelled, maneuvering out of Mark’s arms and running down to where the man was sitting in front of Milo, trying to get him to repeat his trick. “Jinyoung, Jinyoung, Jinyoung!” she yelled as she jumped onto him, toppling him over.

“Oof” Jinyoung groaned, falling flat against the grass. His eyes widening with surprise. “What are you-”

“When we go, can we see the cherry blossoms?” she rushed to say. “Because Uncle Jaebeom told me that they come out in the spring and that their really beautiful and that people-”

“Sunny, Sunny,” Jinyoung leaned up on his elbows looking up at her. “What are you talking about?”

“I want to go see the cherry blossoms with you.”

“Okay,” Jinyoung nodded, trying to understand. “When? Where?”

“When we come visit you in Korea during spring break.”

And Mark watched Jinyoung’s eyes flick over her shoulder, landing on him. Feeling the inexplicable warmth of his gaze adding to the heat and making him feel faint. The memory of Jackson’s rage feeling miles away, just from the contagious hopefulness in Jinyoung’s face. Mark smirked, feeling woozy when he nodded. Watching the bloom of the man’s wide smile, not too different from Sunny’s.

Sunny leaned further onto his chest. “Can we do that?” she pleaded. “Please?”

Jinyoung laughed. “Of course,” he nodded. “We can do anything you want.”

\---

Jinyoung’s flight to Korea was a red eye again. So when the day came for him to leave, they took Sunny over to her grandmother’s. Jinyoung and her having a long moment in the driveway to say goodbyes. And Mark watched on at her “I’ll miss you’s”, his “I love you’s”, the embrace that they shared for what felt like minutes until Jinyoung was pulling away with bleary eyes and kissing her hair. “Be good,” he said, brushing a hand over her hair. “And I’ll see you very soon. In Seoul, okay?” And he tried to smile but Mark could see there was far too much effort behind it.

Mark took Jinyoung out to dinner as a final date before sending him off. A fancy Thai place in the city that Jaebeom had recommended. They ate, talking about nothing significant, just using the opportunity to bask in each other. And Mark kept looking up across the table, seeing Jinyoung’s face. Remembering just how hard it was the last time he left. And he couldn’t decide if the words they had figured out how to say made it easier or harder, as if he was trying to predict just how much he’d miss him before he was even really gone. 

The waiter cleared their plates away and Jinyoung immediately reached across the table, clasping his hand over Mark’s.

And it was gentle and lovely and everything Mark knew he’d miss about having him in close proximity. He drew in a deep breath, “How was it?”

Jinyoung smiled. “Not enough.”

“Are you still hungry?”

“No,” he laughed. “I mean I don’t want to go.”

Mark’s chest felt fuller, feeling the way Jinyoung was playing with his fingers. “I don’t want you to go either,” he said. “But you’ll see me soon.”

“I’m so glad you’re both coming,” Jinyoung said. “Honestly, I’m looking forward to it more than anything.”

Mark felt the smile spread across his mouth. “Me too,” he said. But his mind clouded for a moment. Losing that levity that Jinyoung tended to make him feel. He fiddled with Jinyoung’s hand. “I think we should talk about Sunny.”

And maybe something in his tone gave him away, because Jinyoung’s expression shifted. Smiling falling, just enough, as concern took its place. “What about her?”

Mark hated to be the one to bring it up, but someone had to. “We need to keep her safe when we come to visit.”

Jinyoung nodded. “Of course,” he said, voice softer. “That’s most important.”

“What can we do?”

Jinyoung looked down at the table, pensive and serious. “Limit where she goes?” he suggested, raising his head. “Make sure she’s wearing a hat. Maybe a mask. To cover her face. Just in case people try to take pictures.”

Mark felt the anxiety swell up in him. And while he’d been trying so hard to stay positive about this trip the past few days, to focus on the beautiful opportunities instead of the overwhelming concerns, this shook him. Vividly imagining Jackson sending him another headline. Exposing Jinyoung’s secret. Exposing Sunny to millions of people she didn’t even know. Of this new world taking her for nothing more than a scandal.

Mark rushed with nerves, sitting up straighter in his chair. “We should limit who she meets too,” he breathed. “Jaebeom will be there. He could watch her if he needs to.”

“Oh,” Jinyoung brightened. “No, it’s fine. I already told my manager. She’d be happy to watch her.”

Mark blinked. “Your manager?”

“Yeah,” Jinyoung nodded. “She said it would be no trouble.”

Mark stared at him, his hand going slack as his mind raced. “Does she know? About Sunny?”

Jinyoung looked at him, eyes going a little wider. “Yeah. She knows.”

And Mark couldn’t explain why he drew his hand away. Couldn’t explain the way everything got hotter, frustration boiling up inside him. “Why?” he asked, sharp and pointed.

Jinyoung’s eyebrows tightened. Mirroring that frustration. “If one of your top clients said they need to take a few months off work and move to another country, you’d want some kind of explanation. Don’t you think?” he said, a similar edge to his tone.

Mark tried to think. Tried to consider why the idea of some stranger in Korea knowing something so personal made him rush to anger. Maybe it was fear of what they’d do with that information. Or the lack of control. The subtle reminder that at the end of this day, this secret wasn’t even really about him. It was about Sunny and Jinyoung and the ties that bonded them outside of Mark. And that was never something he wanted to think about. “Well,” he drew in a breath, trying to quell the heat. “I don’t want her meeting a lot of people. Not friends or family or anything like that.”

And Jinyoung stilled, shrinking. “I don’t know if it would be that bad,” he said, softer. Messing with a spare utensil on the tablecloth.

Mark shook his head, “She doesn’t know who you really are. And therefore, she’s not going to understand their place in her life. It’s just more to hide. I don’t want to do that.” He looked up at him, eyes asking for confirmation before his mouth did. “Okay?”

Jinyoung was quiet for a long moment. His eyes still soft, holding a certain amount of unease that Mark couldn’t piece apart. He nodded, “Okay.”

Mark felt a little pinch of guilt, wondering if he’d been too firm. Watching as Jinyoung’s face held that soft uneasiness. Too long a silence stretching out to warrant anything good breaking it.

Jinyoung licked at his lips. His brows twitching together in hesitancy. “Have you given _any_ thought? To telling her who I am?”

And Mark suddenly felt trapped. Because there wasn’t any good way to spin the truth. He leaned his elbows onto the table, hands nervously brushing against each other. “I-” he stumbled. “I haven’t really had the chance to consider it.”

Jinyoung was quiet, looking down at the table. “Do you want to tell her?” he looked up, the shine in his eyes catching the light. “Ever?”

Mark felt a weight on his chest, so heavy that it was hard to breath. “Yeah,” he nodded.

Jinyoung’s mouth turned up at the corners, though it looked the farthest thing from happy. “You’ve never said you want to,” he shook his head.

Mark bit his lips. He reached forward, feeling for Jinyoung’s hand. “I’m sorry,” he said, brushing their fingers together again. “I should have said it.”

Jinyoung stared at him, trying to read him. “What are you waiting for exactly?”

Mark distracted himself with the brush of their fingers, feeling the way Jinyoung’s were limp. Feeling the man’s eyes burn through him. “I’m not sure,” he said. “I just don’t want to be careless about it.”

Jinyoung held his eyes. “I think it’s careless to not think about it.”

Mark knew he wasn’t wrong. But he didn’t know what else to say. “Let’s wait till you get home from Seoul,” he said, squeezing his hand. “Then we can talk. Okay?”

He could see Jinyoung’s face stay blank, like he was weighing whether or not to let it go. “Okay,” he nodded. “We’ll talk then.”

By the time they wrapped up dinner, they needed to head to the airport. Mark pulled up in the departures line, letting the car run as they both got out. He helped Jinyoung put his bags on the sidewalk. Both of them stilling when their eyes met.

Jinyoung wrapped his arms around him, nearly pinning him to the car. Squeezing him tightly.

And Mark smiling, hugging him back, feeling the weight of him on his chest, heavier knowing that he would be without it soon. He sighed, speaking low in his ear and he brushed his hand over the man’s hair, resting against his nape. “When will this part get easier?”

“Probably never,” Jinyoung said, nuzzling into his neck. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“I’m going to miss you too,” Mark said. He pulled Jinyoung’s face up to his, fingers curling under his jaw. “But I’ll be there soon. And you can show me around your life, right?”

Jinyoung’s lips pulled into a soft smile. The hopefulness Mark admired sandwiched between the layers of anguish. “Yes,” he nodded, craning his head closer. “And even after that, I’ll be back here with you before you know it. And everything will be the way it's supposed to be.” And he kissed him softly, sweetly.

Mark pulled away, looking at him for a long moment, trying to take him all in. Feeling the ache in his chest. His fingers brushing up against his cheek. “It’s so hard,” he whispered. “Without you here.”

“I know,” Jinyoung nodded, throat weak. “I know.”

But from the street, a car honked and both of them jolted. Looking over to see someone motioning for them to move along out of the line.

Mark sighed. “You should probably go,” he said, turning back to look at him. “You’ve got a flight to catch.”

“And you’ve got a dog to walk,” Jinyoung smiled.

“Fuck,” Mark groaned. “I forgot about that.”

Jinyoung laughed, squeezing him a little closer. “Take good care of him and Sunny and yourself, okay?” he said. “You all mean everything to me.”

And Mark heard it in his voice that he meant it. “I will,” he nodded.

Jinyoung leaned in, kissing him once more. Just as gentle. “I’ll see you soon, Mark,” he murmured before pulling away.

“I’ll see you,” Mark replied, chest feeling wide and empty as he watched him grab his bags. “Message me when you land.”

“I will,” Jinyoung nodded, giving one last smile before he turned to leave.

\---

Weeks went by. Slow, somber weeks. And if Mark had absentmindedly wondered if this time would be more painful than the last time, with all their feelings so painfully clear to each other now, he got his answer. Because the last time was different. Missing Jinyoung was isolated to smaller instances. The mornings where the extra cups of coffee went cold, the pool that went unused for days on end, the absence of Jinyoung’s singing through the walls.

But now, those instances were different. Still small, maybe even smaller. But the contrast so stark that it wasn’t just the home that felt emptier, but Mark too. The mornings he woke up alone and cold without the press of Jinyoung’s body against him, the spaces between Mark’s fingers that were never quite filled the same way, the absence of Jinyoung’s mouth against his.

And they still spoke to each other. And that helped. Jinyoung would call when he had time to himself in his trailer. When he had mornings at home after a long night of shooting. When he wanted to see how Sunny’s day at school was, how play practice was going with Mr. Choi, how Milo was doing.

The same could not be said for Mark and Jackson who didn’t speak to each other. And Jaebeom still came over with Yugyeom and Bambam for Korean time. Usually doing some kind of activity with them while speaking to them and asking them questions. Cooking a meal, playing games, writing letters. Sunny even wrote one for Jinyoung, saying she’d give it to him when she saw him in Korea.

Sunny missed Jinyoung in a very different way. In that endlessly hopeful way that made Mark smile. The way she dreamed about Korea and what they’d do. The way she carried around bits of him wherever she went. Like she was focusing on the things that were there instead of the more obvious things that weren’t. A t-shirt he left in the wash, the hair clip that he gifted her, a plant she’d toted around the house to make sure it was getting sun next to her.

The day finally came when they were all ready to leave. Their bags packed and Milo dropped off at Mark’s parent’s house. And after Sunny had diligently explained how often Milo eats and that he prefers ice water and which toys he liked to play with alone versus with someone else, Mark’s mom had pulled Mark aside. 

“You sure you’re ready for this?” she asked, voice low enough for Sunny not to hear.

“Yeah,” Mark said, voice cracking too high. “It will be fun.”

She pressed her lips into a thin line. “You’ve only been seeing Jinyoung for a few months.”

“The trip isn’t just for Jinyoung,” Mark affirmed. “This is Sunny’s heritage. She should know it.”

And she nodded, though she seemed unconvinced. Her face tight with concern.

Mark craned his head to study her face, “Why do you look so worried?”

Her thin mouth forced up at the corners. “I’m your mom,” she said. “It’s my job to worry.”

Mark smiled, holding her shoulders. “And I’m her dad,” he affirmed. “So leave the worrying to me, okay?”

The plane ride was long, Mark forcing himself asleep for most of it. But every time he’d stir and look over to Sunny’s window seat, she was perfectly propped up, watching out the window as the ocean glided beneath them. And seeing her excited made him smile, even if he didn’t know what to expect once they landed.

They landed in the afternoon, getting their bags and walking out of the international terminal to a full flock of people. And Mark’s eyes scanned, trying to catch sight of Jinyoung’s face, but he couldn’t find him amongst the crowd. He dragged Sunny by the hand, trying to search, but all he saw were blank faces, giving him a passing glance before looking away.

“Where is he?” Sunny asked, looking up at him.

Mark took a deep breath, feeling the rise of anxiety. “I don’t-”

“Mr. Tuan?”

Mark turned towards the voice. And standing before him was a sharply dressed woman. All black with her hair neatly tied up. He gripped Sunny’s hand a little tighter. “Yes?” 

She reached her hand out towards him. “Hello, I’m Bit. I’m Jinyoung’s manager.”

Mark looked at her, a small delay as he tried to comprehend. “Oh, hi,” he shook her hand.

“Nice to meet you,” she wore a polite smile, something in it a little forced, insincere. “Did you have a good flight?”

“Uh, yeah. It was good,” he said, distracted as he looked around. As if still seemingly convinced he’d be able to spot Jinyoung. “I’m sorry,” he looked back at her. “But where is Jinyoung?”

“Oh,” her mouth went small. “He didn’t tell you that I’d be getting you?”

Mark’s chest sank. “No, he didn’t.”

Her face went uneasy. “I’m sorry,” she said. “He’s been very busy with filming. He must have forgotten.”

Mark felt bad. “It’s no problem,” he sputtered out, readjusting his bag on his shoulder. “I really appreciate you coming.” 

She looked down at Sunny. Her eyes going a little rounder as they fixated on her. “Is this,” she hesitated. “Is this Haeseon?”

“Oh, yeah,” he pulled her a little closer, putting his arm around her shoulder. “Sunny, say hi to Jinyoung’s friend.”

“Annyeonghaseyo,” she smiled, looking up at her.

Bit laughed and it was the first genuine emotion Mark had seen in her. “Annyeonghaseyo, Haeseon-ah.” And she kept staring, studying the girl. Smile slowly fading, before she stood straighter. “Uh, I am going to escort you both to Jinyoung’s apartment.”

“Oh,” Mark shook his head. “I’m sure we can just take a taxi or the subway-”

“No,” Bit stopped him. “Please. I insist.”

And Mark couldn’t read through her persistence. Couldn’t understand the reasoning behind all of this. Why it was so suddenly more complicated than it needed to be. He took a deep breath. “Okay,” he nodded. “Let’s go then.”

Bit ordered them all a car. And the drive into the city was a little more than an hour. All of Sunny’s efforts to stay awake failing when she passed out on Mark’s lap within the first fifteen minutes. Mark looked outside the window, watching the rolling countryside pass by. Hills of lush green that felt so drastically different from the desert. Everything a little cooler with spring air.

They passed through a tunnel, the window going dark. And in its reflection Mark could see Bit’s face staring. He looked over, seeing her gaze focused on Sunny’s sleeping face against Mark’s knee.

Mark spoke soft enough as to not wake Sunny. “He never showed you pictures of her?”

She seemed to realize she was staring, looking up at him. “No,” she shook her head. “This is my first time seeing her.”

Mark forced a smile. “You seem surprised.”

“I am,” she said, swallowing. “She’s beautiful.”

He huffed. “That’s not why you're surprised.”

Bit’s face went uneasy again. Losing any forced positivity along with her voice. “I will be honest with you,” she said. “I was not supportive of this idea.”

“Because?”

She hesitated, trying to find the words. “His industry is not very forgiving about these types of things.”

“She’s just a kid,” Mark shrugged, whispering. “She doesn’t know who he is.”

“Koreans can spot the similarities between their own people easier than foreigners can,” she said, making it sound like a warning.

Mark looked at her. “You really think they’ll be able to tell.”

She sighed, looking ahead. “He tried to tell me that she looks like him,” she said firmly. “But I wasn’t concerned about it then.”

“What about now? After meeting her.”

Bit looked over, meeting Mark’s eyes. “I’m concerned.”

And his stomach churned. He looked down to Sunny sleeping peacefully, absentmindedly brushing her hair off her neck. He licked his lips. “We will do the best we can.”

Bit huffed. “Now you sound like him.”

\---

They arrived at Jinyoung's apartment building, a thirty floored tower in the center of a busy urban district. The traffic outside loud and congested. The streets full of shops and people. And honestly, it was so starkly different from Mark’s own idea of home that it was a little hard not to compare.

Bit was looking at her phone the whole way up in the elevator, Mark watching her expression in the reflection of the door. Seeing the tightness she was still holding on her face. Not knowing if it was just her personality to be so brutal or if it was Mark’s influence.

“It’s this floor,” she called over her shoulder when the doors opened up.

And Mark just gripped Sunny’s hand a little harder as he followed her out.

Bit walked down the hallway, not looking behind her as she started to enter a number into a keypad. Opening the door and calling out in Korean.

Mark came in, looking around. The apartment wasn’t expansive. It was humble. Clean and simple and bright from the late afternoon sun glimmering off the river past the balcony.

“Sunny!”

And when Mark looked, Jinyoung was already there, scooping up Sunny into his arms and kissing her face.

She laughed so brightly, eyes crinkling at the corners. “We’re here! We’re here!” she cheered.

“You are,” Jinyoung smiled. “And I missed you so much.”

And Mark felt that familiar swell of his heart that had become so commonplace when he watched them like this. Knowing how important he was to either of them.

Jinyoung looked over to him, meeting his eyes with a bright smile. “Welcome,” he said, putting Sunny down and reaching towards him. Hand securing around his hip as he kissed him. “How was the flight?”

Mark’s concerns felt all too distant again. Looming Bit in the background, with her cold temperament, barely even registered. He kissed him again. “It was fine,” he smiled. “I slept.” He looked down to Sunny, eyes widening, “Someone else didn’t.”

Sunny rolled her eyes, “I was excited.”

“Mhmm,” Mark hummed.

“Actually,” Jinyoung said, sliding his arm around Mark’s waist. “That works out perfectly.”

Mark felt his touch like some powerful medicine that could soothe any worry. “Why’s that?”

“There’s a cast party tonight,” Jinyoung said. “I wanted you to join me. And since you’re already well rested.”

Mark’s brows tightened. “Who will watch Sunny?”

Jinyoung looked over to Bit leaning against his kitchen counter, still on her phone. And she gave a wave without looking up.

Mark looked back at Jinyoung, eyes wary as he looked back to her. “Are you sure it's okay, Bit?”

She looked up, blinking for a moment before she pocketed her phone. “We will stay home,” she said, coming forward and crouching in front of Sunny. Giving her best try at a smile. “We can have lots of fun here together right, Sunny?”

“But I want to go explore,” she whined, softly. She looked up to Jinyoung, “I want to spend time with you.”

“Tomorrow, I have the whole day off,” Jinyoung touched her hair. “And we can explore as much as you’d like.”

Her eyes were round, mouth pouting. “You promise?”

“Of course,” he said, kissing her forehead. “We’re going to have the best time, I promise.”

Mark looked around, noting all the green that contrasted against the white. “Wow, you really have a lot of plants,” he stepped forward feeling at the waxy leaves of a palm in the corner.

“Yeah, I know,” Bit huffed. “I’m the one who has to take care of them when he’s away.”

“And they are so thankful for you,” Jinyoung smiled. He picked a plant off his shelf, hiding his face behind it. “Thank you, Bit,” he mocked, making his voice go up. “We love you so much.”

Bit barely cracked a smile, looking over at Mark. “Is he this charming with you?”

Mark shrugged. “I tolerate him, too.”

“See?” Bit looked back to Jinyoung. “I’m not the only one.”

Jinyoung gave them the brief tour of his two bedroom apartment. Showing Sunny where she would be sleeping in the guest bedroom, a far too big bed in comparison to the one she had at home. And then to his room as well which was neat and tidy and uncluttered. Bright, stark white with the light coming from the floor to ceiling windows.

“Is that the ocean?” Sunny asked, face pressed up against the glass, sure to leave an imprint.

“Not quite,” Jinyoung said, going to pick her up. He pointed out the glass. “That is Han Gang. What’s gang? Is it ocean?” 

“No,” Sunny smiled. “River.”

“Correct. It’s a really big river in the center of the city. We can go see it tomorrow if you like.”

Sunny beamed in response.

“Jinyoung,” Bit called from the doorway. “Can I talk to you?”

He looked back at her. Both of them seeming to have some sort of wordless communication.

Mark just watched from the side, wondering what this could be about but the anxiety telling him it was undoubtedly something to do with their arrival.

“Yeah,” Jinyoung surrendered with a sigh, putting Sunny down. “Just quickly.”

“Take your time.” Mark beckoned to his bags on the bed, “I’m just going to settle in, text my mother.”

“And I’m just going to lay down,” Sunny assured, climbing up onto Jinyoung’s bed. “I’m not going to fall asleep.”

A few minutes later, Mark was just sending off a text and looking over to Sunny knocked out again. Her eyes closed and her mouth open, drooling slightly on Jinyoung’s pillow. Mark smiled, reaching out to touch her cheek. “Are you happy, Sunny Bunny?” he murmured to her. “You’re home.”

“What did you say?”

Mark looked up, seeing Jinyoung leaning into the doorway. He blinked. “Nothing,” he rushed to say. “What did Bit want?”

“Nothing,” he shook his head, sitting on the edge of the bed. “It’s fine.”

“Convincing.”

Jinyoung grabbed his legs, drawing him closer to kiss him. “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “You’re both here. And we are going to have fun tonight.”

Mark made the conscious effort to let it go, letting his arms drape around Jinyoung. “About that,” he said “What is this thing you’re taking me to?”

“It’s just a get together with some crew, some friends. It’s not a big deal,” he shook his head. “What do you have to wear?”

Mark reached for his bag. “Uh,” he sorted through it. “I have maybe something like this. And some jeans? I only brought sneakers.”

Jinyoung looked over the selection himself. “Is this all you have?”

Mark’s eyes widened. “Is it not okay?”

“It’s a bit casual,” Jinyoung shrugged.

“I just assumed we’d be hanging out and sightseeing,” Mark said. “Plus, didn’t you just say this party wasn’t a big deal?”

Jinyoung hesitated around his words, “You can borrow some of my clothes.”

“What’s this problem?” he scoffed, smiling and drawing his face close. “Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?”

“Don’t joke like that,” Jinyoung pushed him away, getting up off the edge of the bed and heading for his closet. “I want you to be comfortable. I don’t want you to feel like you're underdressed.”

And it didn’t set well with Mark but he had just gotten there. And he wasn’t about to start fussing over something so small as clothing. “Okay,” he nodded. “Can I take a shower?”

“Sure,” Jinyoung said, pulling out dress shirts and holding them up. He looked over his shoulder. “I could join you?” he smirked.

Mark tracked the glint of his eye. Feeling the way it sparked. “Jinyoung,” he chided, voice going low. “Your manager is outside.” 

“I’ll tell her you two are taking a nap and I’m getting ready.”

Mark looked up at him. Unable to fight his back the smile. “Fine,” he surrendered. “But there better be a lock on the bathroom door.”

\---

The cast party was in a warehouse on the lot where Jinyoung’s movie was being shot. It was dark, with only a few overhead lights that cleared the path between drink stations. A few food stands outside offering streetfood. And there were people everywhere. Drinks in their hands and voices loud echoing against the metal as they clustered together.

Mark didn’t feel any less overwhelmed when as soon as they got into the party, people were approaching Jinyoung right and left. Talking closely and excitedly in Korean. And Jinyoung would smile, replying back just as excitedly. Friendly and charming even if Mark couldn’t understand what he was saying.

Mark took this time to go get them drinks, holding one out to Jinyoung as he continued a conversation. And Mark just stood at his side, sipping his own drink a little too eagerly. Feeling the crowdedness and volume of the party heightening something in him that he couldn’t place.

Jinyoung turned to him. “This is my friend,” he spoke up, switching to English. “Mark,” he beckoned for him. “This is one of our key grips.”

And Mark looked at her, smiling and nodding politely. “Nice to meet you.”

“Mark’s visiting from America,” Jinyoung said, slinging a platonic arm around his neck.

“Oh, wow,” she nodded, speaking in heavily accented English. “What do you do there?”

Mark opened his mouth to speak.

“Actually,” Jinyoung butted in. “He’s in the film industry too.”

“Oh,” she laughed. “Then you must be used to this kind of thing.” She motioned to the room.

Mark shook his head. “Not exactly. I work in translations. So I’m never on set.”

“Oh,” she blinked. Going a little quiet. Like she wasn’t sure what to say.

Mark didn’t know what to say either. And they stewed in the awkwardness for a moment longer.

“Well,” she smiled. “I hope you have a good trip.” She waved to both of them, moving onward.

And Mark felt a little empty watching her walk off so easily. The room feeling even louder now. He took another long sip of his drink.

Jinyoung leaned into his ear, murmuring to be heard over the room. “You look so handsome.”

Mark rolled his eyes, looking over at him. “These aren’t even my clothes.”

Jinyoung shrugged. “Maybe you should borrow mine more often,” he smiled, covertly sliding his hand to Mark’s lower back.

And Mark felt a little warmer, seeing the glimmer of Jinyoung’s eyes.

“Jinyoung-ah!”

And just like that Jinyoung was turning away, his hand falling, as someone else approached him.

And Mark watched him start another conversation. The imprint of his hand still on his back. He took another sip from his drink.

He stood there for a little while longer before he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket, reaching in to get it. He tapped Jinyoung’s shoulder, leaning in when he looked over. “Hey. It’s Jaebeom,” he said holding up the screen. “I’m going to take this.”

Jinyoung just nodded, quickly turning back into his conversation.

Mark sighed. He made his way to the exit, swiping the phone open when he was back in the open air near the food trucks.

“Hello?”

“Welcome to Korea!” Jaebeom cheered. “How is it?”

“It’s good,” Mark said. “You here?”

“Yeah, we got in today. We’re staying with my mom.”

“That must be nice,” Mark said, finding a space to lean up against the warehouse. “Especially with Jackson not there.” He took a sip of his drink.

“Hey,” Jaebeom whined. “Be nice.”

Mark wrinkled his nose at the flavor of the unnamed alcohol. “He started it.”

“I know,” Jaebeom sighed into the phone. “I’m working on that. But we should hang out while you’re here.”

“Sunny would love to see the boys,” Mark smiled. “And it would be nice to have some friendly faces here.”

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t know,” Mark looked down to the asphalt, kicking a rock with Jinyoung’s dress shoe. “It’s just a lot. You know. Being in a place that’s not home.”

“Mmm,” Jaebeom hummed. “Mark stepping out of his comfort zone. Maybe Jinyoung really has changed you.”

Mark huffed, “I can’t say I’m enjoying it.” He looked up, seeing the people getting their food from the trucks. All of them laughing and talking animatedly. Feeling the taste of his drink fill his mouth, too bitter and honest. “I’m at this cast party and everyone just looks expensive and they’re all speaking Korean and Jinyoung keeps getting approached and I don’t really know how to busy myself.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Jaebeom soothed. “You’re there to show support. You don’t have to do party tricks. Just being in the room is enough.”

Mark leaned back against the wall. Thinking. “But is it enough for me?” he murmured.

“Relax,” Jaebeom scoffed. “It wouldn’t kill you to participate in his life.”

Mark’s brow tightened. “I do participate in his life.”

“Do you?”

“I’m raising his-” he stopped. The statement hanging in the air a moment too long. “Look,” he sighed. “I should probably get back to the party.”

“Probably,” Jaebeom agreed. “I’ll message you about meeting up. Okay?”

“Sounds good,” he said. “Thanks, Jaebeom.”

He hung up, pocketing his phone and looking down into his drink. He gave another long sigh, downing the rest of his drink in an effort to work himself up to re-enter the party. He started heading in, back through the open doors, when a man coming out bumped his shoulder, mumbled Korean droning out.

“Sorry about that,” Mark said, instinctively, working past him. A little clumsier than he might have been before the drink.

“Oh, wait,” his face sparked with realization as he reached out, grabbing Mark’s shoulder. Switching to English in a flash. “Your Jinyoung’s American friend? The one he’s been visiting?”

Mark stilled under his touch, looking up at him. He was a little younger, handsome and fresh faced. But Mark felt an immediate uneasiness at being recognized. Wondering if he had made some kind of name for himself among Jinyoung’s inner circle. Wondering what kind of connotation that held. He slid out of the man’s grip, opening his mouth and hesitating for a moment. “I guess I am.”

The man’s smile stretched wide, nearly goofy. “What’s your name?” he asked.

“Mark,” he replied, smelling the strong scent of alcohol on the man’s breath and taking a step back.

But the man just rushed to fill the space between them. “So, nice to meet you! I’m Jihyun. I’m signed to Jinyoung’s company as well,” he grabbed Mark’s hand, shaking it.

Mark winced at the strength of his grip. “Nice to meet you, Jihyun,” he said, looking further into the party. “Actually, I think I need to find-”

“Tell me,” Jihyun barreled through, hitting the back of his hand into Mark’s shoulder. “What’s it been like living with Jinyoung?”

Mark looked back at him, blinking. Confused by the question. “What do you want to know?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I just can’t imagine him taking a break. He’s such a workaholic.”

Mark didn’t know what to say. He shrugged, “I mean. He’s fine to live with.”

Jihyun’s eyes widened expectantly. Waiting for more.

Mark blinked, still not knowing what to say. “He’s great at doing the dishes?”

The man laughed, patting against Mark’s back roughly. “You’re a funny man,” he said. “I just hope he hasn’t turned your house into some kind of love hotel.”

“Love hotel?” Mark’s face twisted up. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you know him,” he shrugged, smiling wide. “Handsome. Always charming people wherever he goes. Sneaking them home when the cameras aren’t looking. I can imagine he’s been having fun with the Los Angeles crowd.”

The sounds of the party suddenly fell to nothing as the white noise in Mark’s head went three times as loud. Processing his words, the implications of their meaning. But that couldn’t be true. Because Jinyoung had said… What had he said?

_“My work is very particular. It’s not easy to date.”_

Mark's chest fell. Knowing that whatever Jihyun was hinting at wasn’t dating.

He tried to collect himself, fighting through the white noise. “No,” he said, voice barely there. “No. He hasn’t done that.”

“Hm,” Jihyun shrugged, bringing his drink to his mouth and talking over it. “Maybe he’s taking a break from more than acting then.”

Mark’s throat felt dry. “I’m going to get another drink,” he said, distracted. “But it was nice meeting you.”

“You, too, Mark,” the man waved. “Enjoy your stay.”

Mark went to a drink station, seeing a circle of stacked soju shots resting between the rims of beer glasses. He took one, shooting it back, before picking up a beer and chasing the astringent bite.

“There you are.”

Mark turned, seeing Jinyoung come up behind him.

The man was smiling before his eyes went to the table. That smile falling a little. “Are you okay?”

Mark blinked, smacking his lips from the bitter taste of alcohol. The weak beer mixing with the strong soju in a way that didn’t feel pleasant. “Yeah,” he said, clipped. “I’m fine.”

But Jinyoung just looked at him, brows coming together in concern. His fingers lightly brushing up against Mark’s hand. “Hey,” he said, lower. “What’s wrong? Tell me.”

Mark’s head went quiet. Distantly thinking of how beautiful he was. So much more kept when he was here in Korea. Hair perfectly set into place and skin glowing with a subtle sheen of some type of skincare and dressed so sharply for the chilly Spring weather. And he was different like this, different when he was here, but Mark could see that care in his eyes that was just the same. And reconciling those two different identities felt impossible in the moment. 

He swallowed. “I just,” he shook his head. “I don’t think this is my scene.”

Jinyoung’s eyes still dripped with that quiet concern. Like even in the moment, it was only the two of them in that room. “Where would you rather be?” he asked.

And Mark welled up with feelings. Heightened by the stressful environment, the conversation with Jihyun, the alcohol diffusing through him. He smiled, “Some place where you could hold me. Kiss me.”

Jinyoung’s smile widened. “Let’s find that place, then,” he said, grabbing Mark’s hand.

Jinyoung started to drag him away. Further into the warehouse. Past where the party was happening. And the further they walked into the darkness, the quieter the roar of the party sounded. The warmer Jinyoung’s hand felt around his. The spaces they walked through were dark, but Jinyoung managed to navigate through them with familiarity, dragging Mark along behind him.

By the time they nearly walked the length of the building, the party was nothing but a hum of noise in the background. And Mark took a relieved breath when he was no longer drowning in it.  
Jinyoung let his hand drop as he stepped forward, reaching out to a small table and flicking on a lamp.

Mark looked around seeing, a large, lavish bedroom. Or at least part of one. The set was made up of three of the walls, complete with blue screened backdrops past the curtains and windows. A modern looking bed that sat was centered on the back wall. Everything so clean and crisp and white.

“What is this?” Mark asked, stepping forward into the room.

“It’s my bedroom,” Jinyoung smiled, walking around the edge of the bed to flick the other lamp on. “Well, my character’s I guess.”

“Who is he?” he crossed his arms, studying the faux books on the bookshelf. Their cardboard spines in a mix of Korean and English.

“An attorney. Who has decided to dedicate his life to fighting for others,” Jinyoung’s voice getting mock serious. “But then gets coerced into representing a guilty mob boss, who, of course, has a charming daughter,” he sighed. “You probably can guess where it goes from there.”

Mark looked over his shoulder at him. “So, exactly like you, huh?” he giggled.

Jinyoung smirked, reaching forward to unfold Mark’s arms, grabbing his hands. “Come here,” he murmured, dragging him closer and sitting on the edge of the bed.

Mark stood between his legs, looking down at him. Seeing the way his dark suit contrasted against the white of the room, the sheets. The warm lamp light making his skin glow golden. Like it did on those beaches in LA. So far from here and yet they were still the same. Weren’t they?

“What are you thinking about?” Jinyoung whispered, his hands ghosting up Mark’s sides.

And Mark hadn’t even realized his brows had downturned into a scowl until he felt his face soften. The tingle of the alcohol against his cheeks. “Nothing,” he said, shaking his head.

“Don’t lie.”

Mark huffed, drawing his face closer. “I was promised kisses.”

Jinyoung giggled. “You’re drunk, aren’t you?”

Mark pulled away, pouting. “I’m not,” he whined. “I had like three drinks.”

“You were throwing them back like they were water,” Jinyoung said, tugging him closer again with more force.

Mark staggered forward, clumsily falling over Jinyoung and pushing him down against the bed. Both of them stilling, quiet. Staring expectantly. Mark watched the way Jinyoung’s eyes fixed on him. And his chest gave an ache, like it had missed being at the end of the man’s tunnel vision. But something entirely different ached when he realized that he’d only gone a couple of hours without it. What had changed? Why did it feel like days? Months?

But before Mark could answer himself, Jinyoung leaned up, quieting all the white noise in his head with a kiss against his mouth.

Mark softened, kissing him back. Smelling him and tasting him and letting it flood every other thought. Letting his knee grind up the line of Jinyoung’s body and feeling him groan against it. Remembering how easy this part was, even when everything else seemed impossible to piece apart.

And Mark got so lost in it, hand going up to Jinyoung’s collar and dragging him closer. Biting down on him. Feeling the slowed reaction of his body as the hunger fought through the haze of alcohol. 

Jinyoung pulled away with a gasp. “Did you hear that?”

Mark’s eyes were too focused on the swollen pink of Jinyoung’s mouth, on trying to taste it again. “What?”

“Someone’s coming,” he said, pushing Mark up off of him and grabbing his arm. He dragged him again, more forcefully this time. Behind one of the faux bedroom walls, pushing Mark against the back of it and going quiet.

“Jinyoung-ssi!” someone called from the bedroom, shouting in Korean.

And Mark was still too focused, bringing his hands up to Jinyoung’s hips and holding them tight against him. Lips finding his neck and kissing at it.

“Mark,” Jinyoung whispered fiercely, pulling away. “Quit it.”

The words felt razor sharp. Enough to stop Mark. To have him freeze, looking up at Jinyoung’s face and seeing how distracted he was trying to listen for the sounds of the person nearby. And Mark sunk back against the wall, feeling defeated. Like a small child who didn’t get what he wanted.

Jinyoung didn’t track it. He just kept listening. Waiting. And when the silence had stretched for a long moment, he peeked over the edge of the wall. “He’s gone,” he sighed. “Thank god.” And brought Mark in again, kissing him just as hard.

But now, Mark felt uncomfortable under his touch. The kisses and pressure he’d wanted so badly just a moment ago suddenly feeling too rough. He pushed at Jinyoung’s chest. “Stop,” he said. Seeing Jinyoung’s brow fold in confusion. Mark sighed. “Come on. Let’s just go back to the party,” he turned back towards where they came from.

“No,” he grabbed Mark’s hand, twisting their fingers together and pulling him back. Jinyoung looked at him, trying to read him. Not looking like he was getting anywhere. 

Mark felt the overexposed feeling roar to life, wondering where it had been for the past few months. Realizing maybe it gone away when he stopped hiding parts of himself. But did that mean he was hiding now?

Jinyoung licked his lips. “Let’s just leave. Let’s go home.”

“Jinyoung,” Mark whimpered. “This is your movie. Your party. You can’t leave.”

“Of course, I can,” Jinyoung shrugged. “It’s a lame party anyway.”

And Mark didn’t understand why he was so quickly brushing it off like it was nothing. “Are you sure?”

“Of course,” Jinyoung said. “I just want to spend time with you.”

Mark took a breath, ready to dismiss him again. But he saw the intent look in his eyes. And he couldn’t deny that that’s what he wanted too. He nodded. “Okay.”

Jinyoung ordered a car to take them home. And on the way, Mark must have fallen asleep because when he opened his eyes again, he was leaning on Jinyoung’s shoulder, their hands intertwined as they came to a stop outside his building. 

Jinyoung let Mark’s hand fall away as he paid the driver. He didn’t take his hand back until they were in the elevator. The reflection of them in the door looking different to Mark. All stretched and misshapen.

Mark felt Jinyoung squeeze his hand. He looked at him. Seeing his face close.

“You okay?” he asked.

Mark nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Just tired.”

Jinyoung brought his hand up to his mouth, kissing the back of it. “I texted Bit on our way home. She said Sunny is asleep. I told her she could head out.”

“Thank you,” Mark nodded. And he tried to take the simple pleasure in Jinyoung’s lips dragging against his skin but it didn’t hold the same medicinal quality it had before the party. It was like the medicine wasn’t strong enough anymore.

Jinyoung went to check on Sunny when he came in, making sure she was asleep and comfortable before he met Mark in the bedroom. Both of them changing into pajamas and crawling up into bed together.

Jinyoung reached out. His hand brushing down Mark’s hair, his back, curling around the back of his thigh and drawing it on top of him. Something in it immediately stirring and suggestive.

“Jinyoung,” Mark whined, trying to pull away. “I’m still half drunk. And fully jet lagged.”

He just kept pressing closer, leaning in to kiss at his neck. “I just really missed you,” he murmured, hands going firmer. “I missed everything about you.”

And the words made the spin of Mark’s head feel a little stronger. Closing his eyes and feeling his body flicker with heat. But almost as soon as it did, he heard Jihyun’s voice in his head.

_Always charming people wherever he goes. Sneaking them home when the cameras aren’t looking._

And Mark felt the sheets around him, the comforting sink of the bed. Is this what he’d meant? Is there where Jinyoung used to bring people?

He felt that flicker of his body, now an uncomfortable itch across his skin. He put a hand against Jinyoung’s chest, pushing him away. “Hey,” he said. “I’ll be here all week.”

And Jinyoung searched his face in the darkness, before sighing. “Fine,” he breathed. “You’re right.”

And Mark climbed off of him, turning away and settling into the sheets. Closing his eyes and trying to quiet his mind.

Maybe Jinyoung heard his gears whirring. Because he pulled at Mark's shoulder, leaning up on his forearm to look down at him. Fingers brushing his hair away from his face. “What are you thinking about?”

Mark looked back, staring up at him. Seeing the quiet worry on his face. And feeling a bit of remorse. Knowing he had been the one to put it there. He took a deep breath in, feeling more sober than he’d felt in hours. “This is just… so much easier,” he whispered. “Don’t you think?”

“What?”

Mark’s hand went to his face, feeling the warmth of his skin. “Just me and you. Not everything else.”

“It is,” Jinyoung nodded. “But... if it’s going to work, it can’t just work with you and me.”

The words sunk like heavy stones right to the bottom of Mark. The truth of them too strong to deny. And it left Mark nauseous, stomach churning from more than just alcohol. Like maybe this wasn’t right. Maybe this couldn’t work. And it wore at him too quickly.

He sighed, hyperfocusing on the smallest marks in Jinyoung’s face because it was too hard to look in his eyes. His voice thick when he spoke. “Maybe Sunny and I shouldn’t have come to Korea. Maybe it was too soon.”

Jinyoung’s eyes went wide. Hurt. “Why are you saying this?” he whispered.

Mark shook his head. “You fit into my life so easily. And yet, I’m not too sure I fit into yours.”

Jinyoung put a hand against his chest. “Stop.” He looked at him. Still wearing that hurt. “Mark. It’s the first day,” he shrugged. “And I’m sorry. I threw you into the lion’s den taking you to that party. And maybe I shouldn’t have.” He looked down to his hand on Mark’s chest. Fingers tracing circles. “But I want this idea of home to not be two places on opposite sides of the world. I just want it to be the feeling I have with you and Sunny.”

Mark felt the ache in his chest. Because he wanted that too. More than anything. But he had no idea how. Where to even start. When their lives felt so different. When everything in Jinyoung’s world seemed so hellbent on keeping Sunny and him out.

Jinyoung licked his lips, meeting his eyes. “I love you.”

And Mark stared at him. Not having expected the words. Thinking for a brief fleeting moment that maybe needing to say them was some final attempt to hold onto something that kept slipping through their fingers. Some attempt to make it stay. 

But nevertheless, he knew those words weren’t a lie. He could see them so clearly in Jinyoung’s eyes, whether he’d said them or not. And even through the nausea, the inexplicable hopelessness of the night, he knew he felt the same.

“I love you, too.”

Jinyoung’s face finally let the hint of a smile show through, like a breath of fresh air where the space had grown to stuffy and heavy. He huffed, “Don’t say it if you’re just drunk.”

Mark smiled. “I’m not,” he said, earnestly. “Of course, I love you.”

Jinyoung bit his lips, eyes brighter now. “Good,” he said. He laid back down, that hand on Mark’s chest leveraging him closer. “Get some sleep, Mark,” he whispered into his ear. “Tomorrow will be better.”

And Mark turned away again, unable to see Jinyoung’s eyes. Only thinking about the feeling of the bed below him. The city around him. Knowing they were still far off from that feeling of home. He sighed.

“You’re probably right.”


	15. Fifteen.

When Mark woke up the next day, curled up alongside Jinyoung, he looked up at the window. Below the city and river stretched out from end to end, a foggy gray cloud hovering over everything. Looking like the threat of rain as the sun weakly tried to fight through it all.

Mark could feel the sudden press of Jinyoung’s lips against his neck, trailing up so soft and sweet. 

“Jinyoung,” he murmured, eyes still fixed on the view. “I think it might rain.”

“It’s fine,” Jinyoung soothed. “It will be fine.”

Both of them roused, seeing Sunny already up and feeling around in the soil of Jinyoung’s plants to see which ones needed watering. And Jinyoung went to her, picking her up and carrying her out on the balcony.

Mark followed, leaning into the metal railing and feeling the slight chill of the spring air skirt around them. Watching the way it ruffled through Jinyoung and Sunny’s matching raven hair.

“What did I say we’d do today?” Jinyoung asked, smiling wide.

“See the river,” Sunny giggled.

“Are you excited?”

“Yes!” she looked over at it. “What do people do there?”

“Well,” Jinyoung said, bouncing her. “They go to the park and they ride bikes and they get noodles. Does that sound fun?”

Sunny nodded. “Really fun.” She looked towards Mark. “Are you coming too, Daddy?”

“Of course, Sunny Bunny,” he smiled. “Where you go, I go.”

And that’s exactly what they did. Jinyoung got them all a taxi down to the river park. Suiting himself up in a baseball cap and a mask. 

Mark put a hand on his leg, whispering in his ear. “Will that be enough to hide you?”

“We’ll see,” Jinyoung said, only his round, brown eyes visible.

“What about…” Mark beckoned to where Sunny was sitting near the window, perched up and trying to take in absolutely everything.

“Sunny,” Jinyoung called, seeing her turn to look at him. “After you went to sleep last night, Bit left a little gift for you. Do you want to see it?”

She nodded emphatically.

“Here,” Jinyoung held out a yellow mask. A little bunny nose printed across it. “It’s a mask.”

“Why a mask?”

“It keeps your face warm in the cold,” Jinyoung said. “And it’s so cute, right? She knew you liked bunnies so she got you one with a bunny nose.” He offered it towards her. “Do you like it?”

“It’s cute,” she nodded.

“Maybe you can wear it today and we can match,” he smiled hard enough to see his eye crinkles above the mask.

Sunny looked up at him. “Okay, we can do that.”

And it made Mark’s heart ache to think that they had to hide her. That in the country she came from, she wasn’t allowed to walk around freely with Jinyoung. In fear that someone might snap a picture that could spread like wildfire and bring up enough theories to where Jinyoung had to address it. But he tried to tell himself that this was the price he had to pay to be with Jinyoung. And he tried to weigh the worth of it. But seeing Sunny’s little eyebrows push together when Jinyoung had to help her pull the mask around her ears made it harder. So much harder that he had to look away, distract himself and try to focus on the warmth of Jinyoung’s body pushed up against his in the back of the taxi. Looking up at the gray clouds and thinking, surely, rain must be coming.

When they got to the park, there was only a sparse scattering of people across the grass. And Mark wondered if the darkened sky was keeping them away. But even so there were a few people and vendors ambling about the walkways that lead up the river. Jinyoung rented a tent, Mark helping him set it up along the grass, as far from the others as they could get. And only once they were inside with only one wall exposed towards the water, Jinyoung took his mask off and so did Sunny and Mark let out a breath.

Mark took Sunny down to the water alone. Walking along the edge and listening to the buskers who were setting up along the riverside during mid-day. Sunny asked so many questions. About sports they did on the river. About the boats passing by. And what the mountains ahead of them were like. And what the tower in the skyline was. But Mark couldn’t answer any of them. He was just as lost on all of this without Jinyoung there. So when Sunny’s questions ran out, they went back to the tent, where Jinyoung was reading with his back to the opening.

Sunny leaned into his shoulder as they played a few card games, trying to sneak a peek at his hand. And after a few rounds of talking and joking between all of them, Mark felt himself relax a little more. Because it was just the three of them. And that was something Mark could handle. Something tangible he could hold between his fingers. 

They put the cards away after a few rounds. Jinyoung lay down in Mark’s lap, facing himself away from the opening of the tent just in case anyone passed by. Sunny was watching videos on her tablet with her headphones on.

Jinyoung looked up at Mark. “See,” he said, nuzzling his cheek into Mark’s leg. “We can do normal.”

Mark huffed, letting his fingers comb through Jinyoung’s hair. “I like normal,” he smiled.

Jinyoung smiled back. “Me too.”

In the next minute, his phone was going off. He reached into his pocket, checking it. “Oh, that's the delivery guy,” he looked at Mark. “Can you go get it? You just have to walk up to the delivery spot and he should be there waiting. You can show him this text,” he put the phone in his hand.

Mark shook his head, a little stunned, “What do I say?”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Jinyoung said, sitting up. “Just take the food. Say thank you. It’s fine.”

“Can I go?” Sunny said, looking up from her video and pulling her headphones off.

“No, Sunny,” Mark said. “You stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Mark did as Jinyoung said, awkwardly organizing the pass off between him and the delivery guy who seemed a little disgruntled when he realized he was dealing with a foreigner. But Mark pushed through, getting the food and finding their tent among the others that had started to pop up along the lawn.

Jinyoung helped open up all the take out bowls, mixing Sunny’s noodles for her before handing them over. And they all started eating. Mark absentmindedly slurping his noodles up when he felt Jinyoung press a napkin to his chin to wipe the sauce away. And Mark smiled, feeling a flutter as he continued to eat.

“How is it?” Jinyoung asked Sunny.

“It’s yummy.”

“Good,” he nodded. “You know this used to be my favorite thing to do before I was an actor,” he smiled. “In the summer, they have a festival where they play movies on a big screen and everyone sits in the grass and watches.”

Sunny’s eyes got bigger. A noodle hanging from her mouth. “Really?”

“Mhmm,” Jinyoung laughed. Wiping some sauce from her face as well.

Sunny ignored it, putting her bowl down and leaning in. “Can we watch a movie tonight?” she smiled. “We can build a pillow fort in your living room and we can watch a movie and we can get snacks and ice cream.”

Jinyoung laughed again, big and goofy and it made Mark smile instantly. “I would love that,” he said, reaching up to sweep her bangs out of her eyes. “But I have to go to work tonight. I have to go make a movie.”

“Oh,” Sunny’s face fell.

Jinyoung must have seen it because he quickly tried to make it better. His words rushing out, “You could come if you want.”

Mark’s hands and bowl fell into his lap. “Jinyoung,” he said, firmly.

Sunny’s eyes widened again. “Can I? I mean I’ve never seen how a movie gets made.”

“Jinyoung,” Mark said again, even firmer.

He looked over, face tinging with confusion. “What?”

Mark’s shoulders fell as he turned to his daughter. “I don’t know if that’s the best idea, Sunny. Jinyoung has to work.”

“But I promise I’ll be good! I’ll be quiet!” Sunny leaned forward, grabbing his arm. “Please, Dad. I really want to go.”

Mark looked at her, seeing that pleading in her eyes. So desperate and eager. And in response, his chest swelled with emotion. A mix of love and aching that left him feeling trapped. Unable to say no. “Okay,” he nodded. “You can go,” he said. He raised a finger. “But I’m coming with you.”

Sunny’s eyes crescented when she smiled wide. “Thank you, Dad!” she stood up, kissing his cheek. “I am finished with my noodles. Can I go play?”

Mark sighed, nodding, “Just stay where we can see you, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, already running off to get closer to the river.

Jinyoung picked at his noodles, looking down into his bowl and not meeting Mark’s eyes. Something guilty in the slight rise of his shoulders.

“Jinyoung,” Mark groaned. “I didn’t want her going to set.”

Jinyoung didn’t look up, talking through his half-full mouth. “Why not?”

Mark watched him, feeling the itch of anxiety crawl up his back. “What if people recognize her?”

Jinyoung’s brows creased together. “They are busy, Mark,” he said with a huff. “They have things to do. I doubt they will even notice she is there.”

Mark reached up, curling his fingers under Jinyoung’s chin and lifting it until their eyes were meeting. “Why do I feel like you’re not taking this seriously?”

Jinyoung’s eyes narrowed, grimacing. “Of course I am,” he said, pulling his chin away and putting his eyes back on his food. “This is my career on the line, Mark.”

“And my kid,” Mark said, firm.

Jinyoung looked up at him. His expression a little challenging, like he might use the opportunity to bite. But he must have let it go, because instead he just sighed. “Please, Mark,” he said. “I want to show her this. Show her how hard I work when I can’t be with her.”

And it hit Mark in the center of his chest. That achingly good intention that Jinyoung carried around with everything he did. Always trying to do his best, even when the moral lines felt blurred like they did here. And as Mark looked into his round eyes, he felt that tender spot in his chest swell. Just like it had for Sunny. Just as trapped up in saying yes. He swallowed. “You promise she will be safe?”

Jinyoung’s eyes were round and pretty when he nodded. He reached a hand out to Mark’s knee, gripping it tightly. “I promise.”

And Mark felt all the warm radiate through his jeans, soaking into the places it had missed Jinyoung being. Even if for only a second. Only a minute. Always missing. He put his hand over Jinyoung’s, feeling at the soft spots between his knuckles. “Okay,” he said, trusting him.

\---

When Mark and Sunny arrived to set later that night, a gruff looking staff member stopped them, trying to talk to them in Korean. And Mark immediately dwarfed, trying to find the words in English.

“We’re Jinyoung’s friends,” he tried to say.

“Dad,” Sunny tugged his hand. “Let me.” And she started speaking to the man in her simple Korean.

The staff member looked down at her, brows furrowed as he listened. He held up his hand, stopping her and mumbling something before walking away.

“He said to wait,” she said.

A few minutes later, the staff member came back, beckoning them in. Mark and Sunny followed him, down a long, concrete hall. Watching others stop mid-conversation to stare at them as they passed. And Mark felt so suddenly self-conscious. Like maybe he should have made Sunny wear that mask in his pocket.

The man led them into what seemed to be a dressing room. Racks of clothing along the walls and a few female staff working in front of a vanity, hair and makeup supplies spread across it.

Jinyoung was sitting in the chair, reading his script. He looked up into the mirror, his eyes lighting up. “Hey!” he said, turning towards them. “You made it!”

“We did,” Sunny cheered, rushing up and leaning into his lap.

The woman who had been working on Jinyoung cooed in Korean, asking him something.

Jinyoung shook his head, beckoning towards Mark.

“No, this is my dad,” Sunny said, going to grab Mark’s hand and drag him closer.

“Hi,” Mark said, wondering what exchanged he’d missed.

The woman smiled politely, turning shy. “She’s so cute,” she said in her heavy accent.

“Thank you,” he nodded, protectively drawing her closer.

Jinyoung got up, murmuring something to the woman before looking to Mark. “Let me show you two around.”

Jinyoung walked them around the studio. Showing them where they were filming today, in an office setup that the staff was working to perfectly dress with expert detail. The cameramen dragging cords across the floor, lighting being adjusted overhead. And Jinyoung explained it all to Sunny in terms she’d understand. All the while Sunny nodded, asking questions to clarify, listening with intent focus. Like this was the greatest field trip she had ever taken.

Jinyoung was right in some ways. Because the staff did, at first glance, seem too busy to notice them. No one approaching them as Jinyoung walked them around. But Mark’s gaze was a little more vigilant than Jinyoung and Sunny and he could see the small hints of lingering eyes. The quickest whispers. And it all made him feel like his skin was crawling. Like everyone already knew. 

“I just have to finish getting ready,” Jinyoung said. “But you both can sit here and wait,” he motioned to a bench that was on the outskirts of the set, somewhere behind the cameramen’s backs. 

“Okay,” Sunny said, hopping up onto it. “Are you going to be filming soon?”

“Yes,” Jinyoung smiled. “Just a few more minutes.” And he waved to them both before disappearing back down that hallway they’d come from.

Sunny looked at Mark. “Dad, isn’t this so cool?”

Mark was too busy searching for more eyes, not finding any. “So cool.”

“I didn’t know that-”

But her voice became a murmur as Mark kept searching. “Mmhm,” Mark hummed. “Me neither.”

“Hello.”

Mark turned towards the voice. There was a woman wearing a knee length trench coat with a silk floral dress beneath. Her warm brown hair swept over one shoulder. Her heels clicking against the floor as she approached them hesitantly.

“Hi,” Sunny grinned, looking at her.

The woman bent down in front of Sunny. “What’s your name?” she smiled.

“Sunny,” she said, confidently. “But my Korean name is Haeseon.”

“Haeseon?” she tilted her head. “That’s so pretty. I’m Sujin.” She stuck her hand out, letting Sunny shake it.

Mark felt the involuntary urge to slap her hand away, but he withheld it. Speaking up instead. “Are you one of the staff?”

She looked at him, laughing for a moment. “No,” she shook her head. “I’m the female lead.”

Mark blinked, putting the picture together too late. Noting how meticulously put together she was. Of course. “Oh my god,” he winced. “I’m so sorry.” 

She waved him away. “No, it’s okay.”

Sunny’s brow furrowed as she looked at her. “What does that mean?”

“It means I’m an actor,” she smiled. “Just like your dad.”

“My dad?”

Mark felt the jump of his heart. “Not her dad,” he rushed to say, words spilling out almost incoherent. “He’s not-” he sighed. “It’s me. I’m her dad.”

“Oh,” the actress’s eyes widened. “I’m so sorry. I assumed.”

And Mark felt the small itch of anger crawl up the back of his neck. “Yeah, no,” he looked at her, face serious. “You did.”

She stared back, looking guilty, apologetic.

“Jinyoung’s my dad’s boyfriend,” Sunny interjected.

She looked to Sunny, sitting up a little taller. “Oh, really?”

Mark went quiet, trapped up in the moment. Because he couldn’t lie in front of Sunny. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Really.”

Sujin looked at him, staring for a moment. 

A staff member from set shouted.

“Well, they are calling me,” she forced a smile, rising to her feet. “It was nice to meet you, Haeseon.”

Sunny smiled wide. “Nice to meet you, too.”

The actress walked away, glancing over her shoulder once. The click of her heels moving in exactly the direction Mark wanted them to.

“She is so pretty,” Sunny said quietly.

“Yeah,” Mark agreed, holding his face tight. “She is.”

Jinyoung came out onto the set ready to shoot. His hair perfectly in place and the shiny film of makeup covering his skin and his clothes perfectly in line with the aesthetic of an attorney.

Mark could see the giddiness in Sunny when he waved to her. And she tried to get up and go to him but Mark reached out, grabbing her arm. “Stay here,” he said. “He needs to shoot.”

Sunny didn’t seem any less eager when she instead sat on the edge of her seat as they both watched the filming start. Watching the staff mark off the spots for the actors and going over their directions before they started to roll the tapes.

Mark saw Sujin’s eyes raise just enough to meet his through the crowd of staff. And he dared to think she looked nervous. Though he couldn’t understand why.

The staff settled down into their positions, quieting until the director called action and Jinyoung started speaking his lines, following his directions. His speech so emphatic and serious. Something Mark never really saw in him. But he supposed that was kind of the point. 

Sujin responded softly. Her character shrinking away under the strength of his voice. Sinking down further against the edge of the desk she was propped up on.

And they kept exchanging lines, Jinyoung moving closer, crowding her. Until his voice went softer. So soft that Mark couldn’t hear his lines at all. All he could see was the way he leaned in to kiss her.

Mark should have seen it coming. Should have known based on Jinyoung’s description of the movie that there would inevitably be kissing. But there had been so much other clutter in his head that he hadn’t really pieced it together. And watching it happen, watching how tenderly he did it. Like Sujin was something delicate that he didn’t want to break. It all just made Mark’s skin feel heated. That itch of anger becoming too strong to ignore. 

He felt a tug at his sleeve. He looked down. Seeing Sunny’s wide eyes looking up at him.

“Just pretend,” she said, softly.

And he blinked, taking a breath. Remembering what Jinyoung had told her on the couch that one time. He released his breath. “I know,” he nodded. “Just pretend.” But as they yelled cut, resetting the scene to do another take, he felt that anger turn jittery, unsettled.

They sat there for five more takes, watching each time. Each take getting easier for the actors but harder for Mark as their lines became more fluid, their movements smoother, transitioning between them considerably more comfortable. Even the kissing becoming more relaxed. One take ending when both of them burst out laughing as their lips brushed.

But eventually, they must have gotten the shot because the director shouted, wrapping it. The staff reanimating as they moved about again, to begin setting up the next scene. Jinyoung smiling as he walked off set, coming towards where they were sitting.

Sunny jumped up. “Jinyoung,” she beamed. “That was awesome.”

He smiled, picking her up. “Really?”

“Mhmm,” she nodded. “I didn’t understand all of it. But I like the part where you shout “Don’t go! I love you!”” she mimicked his tone.

And Mark felt the nerves turn over his stomach, even though he had inferred that much. He crossed his arms tight over his chest.

“Thank you, Sunny,” Jinyoung laughed. He looked to Mark. “What did you think?”

Those nerves worked their way up his throat, into his mouth. “I…” he struggled to find words. “I think we should probably head out.”

Jinyoung’s smile staled. “Are you sure?”

Mark sighed. “Yeah, she’s getting tired.”

“No, I’m not,” Sunny said. 

“You will soon,” Mark said, reaching out and taking her. “And they can’t have the sound of someone snoring off camera.”

“I don’t snore,” she protested, her hands against Mark’s chest.

“How would you know?” he said, putting her down at his side. He looked over to Jinyoung.

His smile had fallen. Eyes looking hurt. “You sure you want to go?” he said, more softly.

And Mark felt bad. But at the same time, he knew he couldn’t stand to be there anymore. Couldn’t stand to watch from the sidelines as Jinyoung kissed other people. Couldn’t stand the stares from the staff. The awkward interactions. He nodded, “Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Okay,” Jinyoung nodded. “Well, I’ll be back by the time you wake up.”

“Sounds good,” he said, ready to turn towards the exit. He felt Jinyoung’s fingers reaching for his hand. He looked back. 

Jinyoung drew him closer, hugging him. His mouth going close to his ear. “I wish I could kiss you right now.”

And Mark knew he intended it to be sweet but the words only made his skin crawl. He shrugged out of his embrace. Staring back at him and seeing that hurt in his eyes deepen. Not knowing how to stop pulling away. He winced. “You should get back to work, Jinyoung.”

\---

Mark woke up to the sound of Jinyoung opening the front door. And when he squinted his eyes at the clock and the windows, he saw just how early it was. The purpling light of dawn just starting to come up.

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, looking up and seeing Jinyoung in the doorway of the bedroom. He was back in his day clothes, but even in the low light of the morning, Mark could see the way his hair was still stiffly styled, the layer of too fair makeup on his skin.

Jinyoung looked at him for a moment, tilting his head to the side. Like he was just admiring the view. He shrugged off his coat, letting it fall to the floor as he crawled up into bed. His eyes visibly worn, like a dying light that just wouldn’t give out. But still bright as he brought his face close, bracing over Mark as he studied his face. “You know how long I wanted this?” he whispered. “Coming home to you like this?” He lowered his face down, angling himself to meet Mark’s lips.

But before he could get there, Mark’s memory sparked. Remembering the way he’d kissed that actress so passionately. And as a reflex, he put his hands to his chest, pushing him up. “You must be exhausted.”

Jinyoung stopped, the corners of his mouth turning up. “Never too tired for you,” he said as he leaned closer.

Mark pushed him away again. “Jinyoung,” he sighed, letting it hang in the air.

Jinyoung’s expression hardened, eyes scanning down and landing somewhere on Mark’s mouth. “You’re mad,” he murmured, smiling like he was a bit delirious. “You wouldn’t stop pouting the whole time you were there,” he chuckled. “It shouldn’t have been as cute as it was.”

“You should have asked me first before inviting Sunny on set,” he said, still holding him away. 

Jinyoung’s smile didn’t budge. His eyes blinking slowly. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It just happened. I just wanted her to see it. Plus, nothing bad happened. Everyone loved her.”

“Mhmm,” Mark hummed, brows knitting together. “Meanwhile, she’s watching you kiss other actors. I don’t even know what’s going through her head watching that.”

Jinyoung’s shoulders fell. “I didn’t know we’d be filming that scene today,” he shook his head. He looked at Mark, studying him as his smile pulled again. “I think it upset you more than it upset her.”

Mark rolled his eyes. “Sure,” he muttered, pushing Jinyoung to the side and feeling the sink of the bed where he landed.

Jinyoung sat up onto his forearms, still leaning in far too much. “Am I right?” he asked. “Are you jealous?”

“No,” Mark glared at him.

“You sure?” Jinyoung smirked. “You looked a little mad.”

“Jinyoung,” Mark turned away, staring off at the wall.

But Jinyoung didn’t let him, pulling his shoulder until he was flat on his back and climbing over him again. “It was kind of hot,” he breathed, bringing his face close to his neck and letting each little exhale dew his skin. “If Sunny hadn’t been there, I might have taken you to somewhere quiet. Let you do what you want.”

And Mark felt his body strain, every muscle tightening up underneath Jinyoung’s weight. Becoming ever so conscious of the meeting of their hips in the middle and the way Jinyoung’s trousers left nothing to the imagination. Thinking back to Jinyoung’s mouth and where it had been. “I don’t really want your lips after you’ve been kissing that actress,” he griped.

Jinyoung laughed so softly in his ear, so dark. “Would you believe me if I said I imagine you everytime?”

Mark’s body tightened even more, wanting to give into the pull towards him, but spitefully fighting against it. His mind reeling as all he could think about were all the bodies that had been in that bed before him. How many of them had heard something similar?

Jinyoung’s hands drifted up Mark’s sides, pushing his t-shirt up and smoothing over his ribs. “I wish it was you,” he murmured into the skin below his ear. So soft with his breath so hot. “I wish it was you. I wish it was you.” He kept repeating it, more faint each time as it turned from a hushed whisper to a needy whimper. Grinding his hips down.

And Mark didn’t mean to groan against Jinyoung’s lips at his throat but he did anyway. Feeling the brush of a Jinyoung’s smirk spread against his skin.

Jinyoung sat up, looking down at him. His hands working up the buttons of his shirt before shrugging it off and leaning back over him again. His eyes transfixed on Mark’s lips. Licking his own. His breaths coming out slow. “Kiss me.”

Mark knew he was already aching for him, but he still had that lingering spite that he just didn’t want to throw away so easily. “I don’t want to,” he said, defiantly.

Jinyoung’s lip pouted slightly, eyebrows drawn together. “Fine,” he said. “You don’t have to.” He crawled down the length of Mark’s body, until he was kissing at his hips. Hand coming up to rub against his cock.

Mark gritted his teeth, watching him drag his lips against the jut of his hip bones. Kissing them softly, in stark contrast with the way he massaged against him. And Mark felt the urge to push him away but that persistent ache was so much louder as Jinyoung’s lips got closer, lower, fingers pulling down the front of his sweatpants.

Jinyoung tugged Mark’s cock free, taking it in his hand as he didn’t hesitate to bring him to his mouth. Lips closing around him and running down the length, tongue working around him.

And Mark felt his hips lift higher into his mouth, just to be forced back down. He watched the way Jinyoung’s eyes were closed, smile euphoric. Like he wasn’t even doing it for Mark. Like he was doing it for himself.

Jinyoung’s hand worked in tandem with his lips, wrist curling around him. The slide of the motion easing as his mouth watered over. Jerking him zealously.

And it was so much all at once. So rough and steady and quick that Mark knew he wouldn’t last much longer. But maybe that was the point? Maybe that’s what Jinyoung wanted? Regardless, he didn’t, so he leaned up. His hand going underneath Jinyoung’s chin and pulling him off. Watching the man’s eyes open, his smile spread.

“What’s gotten into you?” Mark asked, something sharp in it.

Jinyoung’s eyes were wide, frenzied. “I just want you.”

“How?”

He shook his head, “Anyway you’ll take me.”

And Mark couldn’t help the scoff of laughter at his lips, finding a little bit of contentment in Jinyoung’s desperation.

He must have taken it as a sign of encouragement because he started crawling up the length of Mark’s body again. Craning his head closer to his face. He reached for the bedside table, rummaging through the drawer before dropping a bottle of lube into Mark’s lap.

Mark looked down at it, seeing it nearly empty. He looked back up into Jinyoung’s face.

“Kiss me,” the man whispered.

And Mark looked down to that near empty bottle again. Feeling it spark something in him. He maneuvered away from Jinyoung before putting a hand to his back and pressing him down against the bed. He climbed on top, sitting on him. “I’m so mad at you,” he said.

“Yeah?” Jinyoung huffed, pushing his ass up towards Mark. “Show me how mad you are.”

Mark reached for the clasp of Jinyoung’s trousers, undoing them before shoving them down his hips. Sitting behind him as he grabbed that bottle of lube from the sheets. Shaking the remnants and squeezing it down between his cheeks. Watching it shine as it trickled down. Mark’s knuckle caught it before it dripped onto the sheets, smoothing up and pressing it against his hole. Feeling him shudder below him, his back preening upward and his knees stretching wider and his hands clenching into the sheets.

Mark worked a finger into him, not bothering to take his time. Going just as roughly as Jinyoung had gone down on him. And Jinyoung didn’t seem to mind as he just kept opening up, softening under Mark’s touch and letting a small little whine fall from his mouth.

Mark leaned up, his hand covering Jinyoung’s mouth as he spoke into his ear. “Don’t make a sound,” he said. “My daughter is in the next room.”

Jinyoung nodded against his hand.

Mark let him go, sitting back and watching as he added another finger.

Jinyoung’s body tightened up, his eyes screwing shut. Holding back whatever noise he wished to be making.

Mark worked into him, feeling the slide start to ease. Jinyoung’s body loosening, unclenching, melting into the motion.

He drew his fingers away, shaking that bottle again and coating himself. He grabbed Jinyoung’s hips. “Sit up,” he said, bringing them into the air. He kneeled behind him. Sinking into him, feeling that throb around him. The beat of the man’s pulse even higher as he was forced to withhold every small sound in his throat.

Mark thrust against him, feeling the way he tried to keep his knees stiff, tried to push up into Mark. Still so desperate. And it just fueled him more, making him increase the speed of his thrusts.

Jinyoung was panting, his back pricking with a layer of sweat as he took everything Mark gave him. He looked over his shoulder. “Are you going to touch me?” he breathed.

And something about it made him sneer. “Do it yourself.”

And Jinyoung bit his lip as his hand went down, touching himself just as eagerly as Mark thrust into him.

Mark could feel the thrum of his body heightening, that insatiable heat that Jinyoung knew exactly how to feed, taking everything. He bent over, curling over Jinyoung’s back. Pressing his cheek into the dewy skin of his back.

Jinyoung smiled, murmuring so warm and smooth. “Are you going to kiss me now?”

And Mark’s body just reacted in anger again. His muscles tightening up at the sound of Jinyoung’s voice. And he knew he was close so he slammed into him, feeling it all cave in around Jinyoung. His hips crashing down into him again and again. He turned his cheek, biting into the flesh of his shoulder hard as he came.

And he heard the way that Jinyoung nearly moaned, the sound getting choked up in his throat when he came into the sheets. His face screwed as his back arched up into Mark. The feeling coursing through him before he collapsed down onto the bed, his breaths heavy and his eyes shut.

Mark rolled next to him, laying on his back and looking up at the ceiling. Just staring and staring as his hollow climax floated farther and farther away. Until he felt Jinyoung’s hand against his chest. He looked over.

“Come shower with me,” Jinyoung breathed.

Mark looked at him, still feeling that aching spite somewhere deep. “I don’t want to.”

Jinyoung’s eyes went round, glimmering and sad. “Please,” he pleaded.

Mark stared at him, not wanting to do it, but the way Jinyoung was looking at him made him unable to say no. “Just give me a second. I’ll be there.”

And Jinyoung’s eyes didn’t change but regardless, he got up slowly from the bed, walking to the bathroom. 

Mark listened to him flick on the shower. He closed his eyes. Feeling the way that hot itch of anger was plummeting, too quickly, into frigid numbness. The kind that left him feeling like all he wanted to do was go back to sleep. To block out this world for as long as he could. Praying that if anything, he’d wake up in his own bed in Los Angeles with Jinyoung at his side. This whole trip being some nightmare that he could shake off with the press of Jinyoung’s lips on his.

But he knew that wasn’t the case. He knew this was real in a way that he had to face. He got up, dragging himself to the bathroom. Seeing Jinyoung in the shower, working his hands through his hair. Smoothing it away from his face as he met Mark’s eyes.

And Mark ached for that glistening man in his pool. Not the actor that was washing off a long day on set.

Mark got in with him, wetting his own hair and rubbing his hands against his face. He looked over at Jinyoung.

The man was watching him from across the shower. A tinge of fear in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Mhmm,” Mark hummed, brushing the water out of his eyes.

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” Mark said, paying him little attention as he started to wash his hair. “Why?”

“It’s just,” Jinyoung bit at his lips. Voice coming out small. “That was a little rough.”

Mark’s hands froze in his hair, feeling a heavy sinking disappointment in his stomach. “You didn’t want that.”

“No, I-,” Jinyoung rushed to correct himself. “It just… was different. I don’t know.”

Mark didn’t know what to say, so he drew his eyes away, resigning himself to washing his hair again. And neither of them said another word as they showered.

When they were done, Jinyoung stepped out. He wordlessly handed Mark a towel before grabbing one for himself. Wiping his face, his hair, wrapping it around his body. He went to the mirror, clearing away the fog with the swipe of his hand and eyeing himself. 

Mark watched him, not even feeling like he was in the room.

Jinyoung turned, looking over his shoulder in the mirror and inspecting the bite mark that Mark had left. The near perfect circle of Mark’s teeth, all red and swollen. A haze of pink around it. Jinyoung ran his finger over it, hissing. “You know I have to film, right?”

Mark felt the sharp edge of his tone, not even sure if it was really there or he was projecting it. He swallowed, looking down to the floor. “I’m sorry,” he said, softly.

“You need to be more careful.”

But again, some wire was crossed in Mark’s head and all he could hear was the hatefulness that he wasn’t quite sure was there. He felt it cut through him. Breaking whatever numb exterior he’d been wearing. “I don’t want to be,” he said, voice shaking. 

Jinyoung looked up at him, hearing the change in his tone.

And Mark shook his head, trying to swallow the sudden thickness in his throat. “I hate this shit. I hate it so much, Jinyoung.”

“Mark,” he sighed. “Come here.” And he reached for him, pulling him close and holding him tightly. One arm laced around his waist while the other held his head, fingers combing over his wet hair.

Mark could feel the humid press of their bodies, warm and close. Somehow even closer than they’d just been in bed. He burrowed his face in Jinyoung’s neck, eyes tightly screwed as he tried to fight back the tears welling up. Everything welling up. And even if he was strong enough to stop the tears from slipping through, he couldn’t stop the words. “I want you back,” he choked out, muffled against his skin. “The way it was before. I want you bare faced and wearing my sweatpants and having lazy mornings together and sitting out by the pool. Going out and not caring if anyone sees us.”

“I know,” Jinyoung soothed, that hand at his back making small circles as he tried to hold him closer. “We’ll be back in California soon. Just endure this a little longer. Okay?”

“Does it even matter?” Mark wondered. “You’ll have to come back here. You’ll have to keep coming to Korea.”

“I know,” Jinyoung sighed. “But we’ll get better. We’ll work on it.”

Mark went quiet. Hearing that hope in Jinyoung’s voice weaker, less convincing than it had ever been. And Mark hated thinking that Jinyoung was losing faith in them too.

Jinyoung pulled Mark’s face up, fingers sweeping underneath his jaw. And when their eyes met, Jinyoung’s weren’t as calm and patient as Mark was used to seeing. No, instead there was something a little anxious in them. “I need you to trust me, okay?” he urged. “Because I’m still me. Still yours.”

And even if there was something else there, the words were enough to elicit a soft flutter from his stomach. Enough to quiet down the threat of tears for long enough that he could watch Jinyoung’s face, unblinking.

Jinyoung didn’t draw his eyes away, the corners of his mouth tugging into a smile. He shook his head, “I’m still the same hopeful fool that showed up on your doorstep.”

And Mark remembered him. Remembered his eyes when he first took off his sunglasses and how they’d stopped him right in his tracks. And the nostalgia for that time, the persistent longing for it, quieted his mind. Twisting the volume button down until he could finally feel the warmth of Jinyoung’s hands against his skin again. He drew in a shaky breath. “This must be more than you bargained for when you did.”

“It is,” Jinyoung huffed. The lines near his eyes deepening. “In the best way possible.”

And Mark felt the smile on his own mouth finally grow, slow and rigid like the muscles had forgotten how.

Jinyoung eased their faces closer, looking into his eyes, like he was asking permission. But when Mark didn’t pull away, his gaze flickered down to his mouth, leaning in and kissing him.

Mark melted, unable to think about anything else. And if he could just keep him like this, close and his and all alone, he was sure there would be nothing more to worry about. Nothing to fear.

Jinyoung pulled away, smiling wide. He beckoned to the bedroom. “We should try to get some sleep before she wakes up.”

\---

The alarm went off on Jinyoung’s phone. Loud and blaring enough that it woke them both up with a startle. Jinyoung was the first one to reach for it, swiping it off before rubbing his face and sitting up.

But as he tried to leave, Mark reached for his waist, snaking an arm around him and pulling him back. “No,” he said, cuddling him close. “Stay. Sleep longer.”

“Mark,” he groaned, trying to pull away. “I can’t. I promised I would take her to see the cherry blossoms today. The weather was supposed to be perfect.”

Mark tried to hold him tighter. “So what?” he whimpered. “You’ve been going nonstop since we got here.”

“I’m fine,” Jinyoung pulled free, turning to look down at him. “You’re the one whose jetlag is finally catching up with him.”

And Mark could feel the weight of sleepiness still heavy on his chest. Not able to deny it. He sighed, turning onto his stomach and settling back under the covers. “Just another hour. The stupid cherry blossoms will still be there.”

“Mark,” Jinyoung laughed, hand coming up to cradle his face. He looked down at him. Biting at his lips like he was thinking. “You stay and rest,” he said softly. “I’ll take her.”

Mark leaned into his hand. Feeling how warm it was. “Are you sure?”

Jinyoung nodded. “It can be our thing,” he smiled.

And Mark looked at him. Seeing all that tenderness in him. Their argument from a few hours ago feeling so distant, like it was just another dream. He smiled. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Jinyoung said, leaning down to kiss him. Lingering against his lips before he pulled away. “Get some sleep, Mark,” he whispered. “We’ll be back after lunch.”

“Bring me something,” he muttered, twisting himself up in the covers.

“I will,” Jinyoung pet his hair before getting up again.

“Jinyoung,” Mark called after him, watching him turn to look back. And he saw the way his face was bare and his hair was messy and his t-shirt was wrinkled. Exactly the image of him that Mark wanted to keep unchanged. He licked his lips. “Keep her safe.”

Jinyoung smiled. He nodded. “Always.”

\---

When Mark did wake up, somewhere close to mid-day, he checked the time in Los Angeles, seeing it was only a little after dinner time. He decided to dial his mom.

“How is it there?” she asked, a television playing somewhere in the background.

Mark leaned into the railing on the balcony. “It’s good,” he said, voice pitching higher. Trying not to think of all the speedbumps. “Different than I thought it might be but not bad.”

“Is Sunny having fun?”

“Oh. She’s having more fun than anyone,” he huffed. “She’s out with Jinyoung today. He’s taking her to see the cherry blossoms.”

“That sounds nice,” she said. “Have you been meeting his friends and family?”

“Yeah,” Mark nodded, voice turning a little stale again. “Well, I’ve met some of his colleagues and friends. I went to a party for his movie. And Sunny and I visited him at work the other day.”

“Are they nice?”

Mark hesitated, not sure what to say. Remembering the feeling of their heavy stares. Bit’s coldness. Jihyun’s bluntness. Sujin’s skepticism. And how uncomfortable each of them made Mark feel. “They are nice enough,” he settled on. “Obviously, it’s a little awkward being a foreigner.”

“Well, he wouldn’t take you around if he wasn’t proud of you.”

And Mark felt a little hesitant, wondering if that was really true. If Jinyoung would even really want to take him around if it wasn’t for Sunny. Because obviously the party hadn’t really gone according to plan. Or even their visit to set. “I guess you’re right.”

His mom was silent for a while. “Mark. Are you sure you’re okay?”

He pulled himself from his thoughts. “Yeah. Why?”

“You don’t sound like it.”

And he wasn’t quite sure how he sounded, how she knew. He sighed, looking out the window at the gray skies. Maybe a little darker than they’d been yesterday. Which was weird because he could have sworn Jinyoung had said something about them clearing up. “Things haven’t been perfect. We had a bit of a rocky start. And there were some minor disagreements,” he said, wincing a little. “But, we are working on it.”

“It’s okay if you want to come home,” she said. “It’s okay if it’s too much for you.”

“I know it’s okay,” he said. “But really, I think we’ll be okay.” And he thought back to Bit, when she said that Mark was starting to sound like Jinyoung. And he wondered how much of what he was saying was just that optimism that Jinyoung was so good at making him feel. And if there was really any substance to it.

“You said something about Jaebeom being there?”

Mark blinked, drawing his eyes from the clouds. “Yeah. We are hanging out with him tomorrow.”

“It will be nice to see him, I’m sure,” she said. “He has a calming presence to him, don’t you think?”

“He does,” Mark agreed, thinking that maybe some of Jaebeom’s grounding was exactly what he needed right about now.

A few hours later, the two came home. Sunny running up to Mark on the couch.

“Dad!” she said. “We’re back.”

“You are,” he said, kissing her head. “How was it?”

“It was beautiful,” she smiled. “Here! Look at my pictures!” She started rummaging through her little bag, pulling out her polaroids to show. She had taken about a dozen pictures. Of the cherry blossoms trees against the overcast skies. The sidewalks dusted in petals. The strangers that were crowding around, admiring them. The picturesque lake the trees surrounded. The soft pink undersaturated by the gray clouds. 

“Wow,” Mark gasped. “The pictures are so pretty.”

“And Jinyoung took me to a cafe and we got this pink drink that they only have when the cherry blossoms are out.”

“Oh, really?” Mark laughed, looking up and watching Jinyoung sit himself down on the couch. Noticing how he looked visibly worn out. “What did it taste like?”

Sunny’s lip pouted out as she thought. “Mmm. Kind of like strawberry but way better.”

“Did you have fun then?”

“So much fun,” Sunny beamed. “It was perfect.”

Mark’s eyes widened along with his smile, “Perfect?”

“Well, almost perfect,” she corrected. “If Daddy had been there, it would have been perfect.”

“That’s what I thought,” Mark ruffled her hair. “What do you want to do now then?”

Sunny thought, “Well Jinyoung and I went to this toy store after lunch and we bought a new puzzle. Maybe we can do it together?”

“Okay,” Mark nodded. “Let’s do it. Jinyoung, do you-” He looked over, seeing Jinyoung sunken down deep into his seat. His head leaning into his hand and his eyes closed. His chest moving up and down in easy breaths. He smiled. “Jinyoung.”

“What?” he opened his eyes, raising his head. “I’m here. The drink. It was pink.”

Mark huffed, looking to his daughter. “Sunny,” he said. “What do you think? Should I put Jinyoung to bed?”

She nodded, “Yes, he had a very long day.”

“You heard the lady,” Mark got up, going to where Jinyoung was sitting. “Come on.” He offered his hand.

Jinyoung groaned sleepily as he grabbed it, letting himself be pulled to his room.

Mark laid him down, putting the covers over him. He sat on the edge of the bed. “How was it really?” he asked. “Just you and her.”

Jinyoung’s mouth spread into a wide smile. “Perfect,” he whispered, eyes fluttering closed.

Mark rubbed his shoulder, “Did anyone see you?”

“They love her,” Jinyoung murmured. “How could they not love her. She’s perfect.”

Mark’s brows furrowed. “Jinyoung,” he said. “What are you talking about?”

Jinyoung’s eyes snapped open, his mouth agape for a moment. “The crew,” he said. “They loved seeing her last night.”

Mark shook his head. “You’re delusional. Go to sleep,” he leaned down. “You have another long day on set tomorrow.” He kissed him, pulling back to see his face.

Jinyoung looked up at him, his eyes filled with admiration. “I love you so much.”

And Mark felt it. “I love you, too.”

\---

The next day, Jinyoung went off to set early in the morning while Mark and Sunny got ready to spend the day with Jaebeom and the boys. They took the bus together, Sunny carefully referencing the instructions that Jinyoung had written out for her with little help from Mark. They crossed the river, heading northwest and meeting up at a natural history museum.

The kids skipped around from exhibit to exhibit. Jaebeom reading the labels for them, a good exercise in teaching them new words as they learned about Korea’s natural habitats and resources. And Mark learned just as much as he soaked in Jaebeom’s familiarness. Feeling so instantly soothed by it that he realized the low grade anxiety he’d been carrying around since he got to Korea.

The kids were playing with an interactive, digging through the dirt, as Mark and Jaebeom sat on a bench together.

“So,” Jaebeom smiled. “How’s it been? Since that party?”

Mark expected it, but still wasn’t sure what to say. At least feeling like he could be more honest with Jaebeom than he had with his mom. “It’s been up and down.”

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I mean we’ve been here four days now. And we have yet to have a perfect day.” He huffed, “Hell, even yesterday started in a fight.”

“About what?” Jaebeom’s face twisted together.

Mark thought, trying to think past the overwhelming emotions of it to what it was about. But it was hard to even remember. “I just feel like Jinyoung is the only person in this whole city who actually wants me here.”

Jaebeom shrugged, “Isn’t he the only person who needs to want you here?”

“I guess,” Mark blinked, looking over towards the kids playing. “But then there’s Sunny as well. Everywhere the two of them go together is an issue. Cause there is always a fear there that something is going to happen.”

“Something like what Jackson said.”

“Exactly,” Mark nodded, looking over. “And you know how much I would hate for him to be right.”

Jaebeom smirked a little. “But nothing has happened.”

“I know,” Mark darkened. “It’s just like I’m watching a scary movie and I haven’t seen the monster yet. But I know it’s there.”

Jaebeom went quiet. “What does he say?”

Mark shook his head. “He just tells me it’s fine. Tells me he loves me.”

“Does it work?”

“For a little while,” Mark shrugged. “Not as long as I would like it to.”

Jaebeom looked at him. “He does love you. You know that right?”

Mark found it hard to look back. “I know,” he nodded. “I’m just. Counting the days till this is over.”

After their museum visit, Jaebeom invited them back to his mother’s for a meal. And she was so kind, not knowing English but still smiling so wide as she got food ready for them. And it was the first time Mark had actually felt welcome here. Thinking distantly that maybe Jaebeom and her shared more than just looks.

She set out their meal. All of the kids thanking her as they eyed it greedily.

“Thank you,” Mark smiled from his place on the floor.

“Yeah, thanks, Eomma,” Jaebeom said, eyes focused as he started to portion out food for the boys’ plates, sneaking a bite in every now and then.

“I know an eomma,” Sunny smiled.

Mark stirred her cloudy soup for her. “Here,” he said. “Eat this.”

“I met her yesterday,” Sunny continued.

Mark’s brows drew together. “What are you talking about, Sunny Bunny?”

“I met her at the lake,” she said. “We saw the cherry blossoms together. She and her husband were so nice.”

The sound of metallic clanking made Mark lift his head, looking over and seeing Jaebeom’s metal chopsticks fallen from his fingers. His mouth hanging open, staring up at Sunny.

Mark felt a sudden rush of panic. Sunny’s words latently sinking in. Putting the pieces together. He turned to his daughter. “Who-” he shook his head. “Who was this, Sunny?”

Her eyes went wider under Jaebeom and Mark’s heavy stare. Her shoulders shrinking together. “Jinyoung’s friends,” she said, hesitantly. “Jinyoung. He called her Eomma.”

Mark looked back at Jaebeom, seeing the uncertainty still in his eyes. And feeling that panic double in him, pushing his food away as his stomach gave a nauseous churn. He looked at her, unable to keep his voice from going fierce. “What did she look like?”

“You saw her,” Sunny nearly pleaded. “In my pictures.” 

Jaebeom spoke up, not nearly as worked up as Mark but something still uncharastically focused about him. “Do you have them with you?”

Her eyes got more nervous. Looking between them. “Am I in trouble?” 

“No,” Jaebeom shook his head, voice going softer. “You’re not in trouble, Sunny. We just want to see Jinyoung’s friend.”

She got up from her place on the floor, going to grab her bag from the corner. She sorted through her polaroids until she found the one she was looking for. “Here,” she said, coming forward and handing it to Jaebeom.

Mark rushed to get up, leaning over his shoulder. It was a picture of an older man and woman sitting on a bench. Smiling as the cherry blossoms arced over their heads. And Mark vaguely remembered if from yesterday but he had just assumed they were strangers.

Jaebeom turned to look up at him. His face wearing a look of shared distress. Only confirming Mark’s suspicions.

Mark swallowed, trying to manage his expression as his blood began to boil. “Can I talk to you?”

Jaebeom nodded, standing up and leading him towards one of the rooms in the small apartment.

Mark followed him in, seeing the mat on the floor surrounded by the boys’ scattered clothes and toys. He sat himself on the edge of the mat, watching the way that Jaebeom paced in front of him. The quiet lasting far too long. Mark feeling the anxiety heighten as he nervously pulled at his lips, eyes transfixing on a spot on the floor. And he didn't know where to begin, so he started with stating the obvious. “It’s his parents, isn’t it?”

Jaebeom rubbed at his shoulder. He winced. “It would seem so,” he stopped, looking at him. “You didn’t know, did you?”

Mark felt it sweep over him, every nerve on edge. “No,” he said, voice dying in his throat. “I told him specifically not to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Introduce her to family.”

“Why?”

Mark sighed. “I don’t know,” he said, his voice going scratchy. “I just didn’t want that. I said it. I _explicitly_ said it,” he tried to enunciate the words but with every one, his voice only broke a little more. His eyes starting to blink back tears.

“Mark,” Jaebeom sat next to him, trying to put his arm around him. “Hey. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” he pushed it away. “I trusted him with this.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he breathed.

Mark went quiet. Feeling the floodgates open and all of that hope drain out of him. And he was trying, really trying to quiet every little thing that was piling up in his mind. All the passive aggressive voices and all the lingering doubts. Trying to hold on to the sight of Jinyoung’s face but it kept slipping away. 

“I can’t do this, Jaebeom,” Mark shook his head. “I can’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“I thought I could get through this trip,” he said, breath rattling in his chest. “Because as much as things sucked, at least I had him. But now, he’s lying to me-”

“He didn’t lie-”

“He’s sure not telling the truth,” Mark snapped, looking at him. Seeing the way that Jaebeom’s shoulder fell and instantly feeling a pang of remorse. He looked down at the floor again. Trying to keep it back, stuff it down. “If I had known this was what it was going to be like, I wouldn’t have come,” he said, quietly. 

Mark groaned, his head falling into his hands. “God, I’m so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid,” Jaebeom soothed.

He felt the turbulent panic beneath his skin. Too hot and intense. He just wanted to surrender to it, stop helplessly trying to quell it. 

He looked up at him. “I can’t do this anymore, Jaebeom,” he said, giving in. “I can’t stay here any longer.” 

Jaebeom stared back, mouth hanging open.

“I just want to go home,” Mark choked, hands fisting together. “I just want to bring him home and never have him come out here again.”

Jaebeom’s face softened, filling with pity. “This is his home, Mark,” he whispered. “You can’t ask that of him.”

“Jaebeom, please,” he said, breath seething. “I can’t.”

Mark put his head in his hands again, trying to keep back the tears that were on the verge of pouring over. Everything was pouring over. And he didn’t know how to stop. And it scared him. Thinking about Sunny in the next room. What would he say to her? How could he hide this?

“Just talk to him,” Jaebeom said, smoothing a hand down Mark’s back. “Tell him you just need to take a step back.”

Mark went quiet. Trying to picture it. He’d never approached Jinyoung like this. Because he’d never needed to. Jinyoung had always been so kind and respectful and patient and wonderful. He never lied. He never kissed strange actresses. He never slept around. He never did any of these things that Mark had seen in him the past few days.

“Maybe you can stay here for the rest of the trip,” Jaebeom offered.

“You mom can’t take in all of us,” Mark shook his head.

“Of course she can,” Jaebeom said. “I can share with the boys. You and Sunny can take my room.”

Mark looked at him, brows creasing together. “Are you sure?”

“Mark, of course. You’re my best-”

“No,” Mark stopped him. “Are you sure I can do that? Ask for time? Is he going to hate me for that?”

Jaebeom looked at him. Mouth falling open, hesitating. “I don’t know,” he shrugged.

Mark gulped. Looking up into the light to blink the tears back. “Can you help me?”

“Of course,” Jaebeom nodded. “How about this,” he started. “I’ll come with you. I’ll help you pack up your things. I’ll bring them back over here. So that you can have some time to talk to him.”

Mark took a deep breath, letting it out. “Okay,” he swallowed, wiping his nose. Readying himself to put on a brace face for Sunny. “Okay.”

Jaebeom started to get up, going for the door.

“Jaebeom,” he called. Watching him turn back. “Thank you.”

\---

The subway ride to Jinyoung’s apartment wasn’t easy. Even with Jaebeom at Mark’s side. He could feel the eyes of everyone in the train car on him. Their overwhelming judgement. Like they knew, they all knew, that he was the foreigner, the outcast. Like he was some sort of oddity. And their stares served as reminders that this place wasn’t for him, that it would never be for him.

Once they got to Jinyoung’s apartment, they started to pack up his things, Sunny’s things. And it wasn’t easy either. It was this weird mix of emotions. Part of it feeling painful. Because he felt like such a failure for giving up on this trip. Yet he also couldn’t deny how relieving it was to know that he’d be leaving. To know that he wouldn’t have to sleep in that tainted bed again. And then there was a part of it that was still anxious, trying to anticipate Jinyoung coming home from work. Him walking in the door. What he would say, do.

“You can do this,” Jaebeom nodded with Mark and Sunny’s bag in either hand. “Just take it easy. Tell him calmly.”

“Okay,” Mark nodded.

“Don’t…” he hesitated. “Don’t lose your cool. Not like you did with Jackson.”

And Mark felt the sharp stab of remorse, regretting how harsh he was on him. He took a deep breath. “I’ll try.”

“I’ll be there when you get back to my mom’s house,” he smiled, waving as he left.

Mark waited. And waited. Sitting on the couch, sinking in too deep. His mind rushing with possibilities. Playing out the conversation a dozen times and wondering what Jinyoung would say. Would he admit it easily? Would he try to hide it? What could he even say that would make Mark forgive him?

He sat there so long, the sun was nearly set across the river and a distant noise made him draw his head up. A small little patter coming from outside. He stood up, going out on the balcony. Holding his hand over the edge and watching the rain dot his skin, barely feeling it. Looking up into the gray sky and thinking about how long it had loomed. Wondering if it felt good, to get it all out.

Mark heard the front door open behind him. He rushed inside, closing the door behind him. Looking up and seeing Jinyoung in the entryway.

“Hey,” he smiled, shrugging off his jacket and dropping his things and kicking off his shoes. “How was your day?” He hurried forward, leaning in to kiss Mark’s cheek.

Mark felt the press of lips against his skin for a quick second. But they felt like nothing. Like that rain against his skin. “Jinyoung-”

“You should have heard everyone on set today,” he kept going. Tone so bright and cheery as he started undoing the top buttons of his shirt, rolling up his cuffs. “Everyone kept talking about Sunny,” he didn’t stop as he went towards the guest bedroom. “Kept mentioning how cute and friendly and smart she-”

“Jinyoung,” Mark said, more firmly as he followed him.

Jinyoung stopped. Standing in the middle of the room, frozen. His eyes taking in the perfectly made bed. The empty floor. He turned to Mark. His mouth falling open. “Where’s Sunny?” he breathed. “Where are her things?”

Mark took a deep breath. Trying to stay calm. Trying to remember Jaebeom’s words. “I wanted us to talk,” he said. “Alone.”

Jinyoung took a slow step towards him. His eyes turning sharp. “What’s wrong?” 

Mark felt the churn of his stomach. He took a step back. “I wanted to talk to you about yesterday.”

Jinyoung stilled. “What about it?”

Mark had a moment where he considered just forgetting about it. Letting it slide and playing it off like everything was okay. But he knew he couldn’t. He knew he’d have to face this. “Where did you take Sunny?”

Jinyoung’s face stayed steady, unchanged. “Just out to see the cherry blossoms,” he said, tone expressionless. “And we got lunch. And we went to a toy store-”

“Who did you take her to see?”

Jinyoung’s eyes focused intently, narrowing. “What did she tell you?”

Mark felt an instinctual bit of anger flicker inside him, fanned by the way that Jinyoung was still trying to withhold the truth. He crossed his arms over his chest. “I know what you did.”

Jinyoung went quiet. His eyebrows turning down into a glare. “Then why are you bothering to ask?”

Mark tried to breathe but it felt too hot. “Come on, Jinyoung,” he said, letting his arms fall. “I don’t want to fight. Just tell me.”

Everything about him turned stiff, cold. From the tension between his shoulders to the sharpened edge of his stare to the nearly sinister bluntness of his tone. “I took her to meet my parents.”

And Mark had already known it. But it still felt like something he wasn’t ready to hear. “You told them.”

“Yes,” he nodded.

Mark shook his head. “Why would you do that?”

“Because,” Jinyoung sighed. “They deserve to know they have a granddaughter.”

“Jinyoung.”

“I didn’t tell her who they were to her. I just said they were my friends.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Mark’s voice went softer. “You broke my rule, my trust-”

“No,” Jinyoung shook his head. “You see, the intention of your rules was to keep her safe, ignorant. She’s safe. She’s ignorant. There’s no problem, Mark.”

“That wasn’t-” his voice started to raise before he stopped himself. He rubbed a hand over his face. “It doesn’t matter why I made the rules. They were my rules.”

Jinyoung leaned onto one leg. Arms crossing over his chest. Taking a deep breath. “Well, honestly, I’m tired of your rules,” he said, too blunt. “I’m really fucking tired of them.”

Mark stood there watching him. Because in every iteration of this conversation in his head, he’d never expected Jinyoung to be the one getting angry.

“They’re my parents, Mark,” he raised his voice. “You know how much your family means to you. Can you even imagine hiding something like this from them?”

“I understand but-”

“You don’t. You couldn’t,” Jinyoung snapped. “I’ve been keeping this from them for six years. And I’ve had to watch them get older and hope that they would still be around to meet her one day.”

“But that doesn’t give you the right to-” Mark stopped. Standing back. “Wait,” he said. Thinking. Replaying his words. “Six years?” He stared at him. “But you didn’t know about her till last fall.”

Jinyoung went quiet, still frozen and sharp.

Mark’s mind sparked, beginning to realize. “Unless-”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Jinyoung shook his head. “I meant she’s six. She’s been here for six years.”

“Then, say it again,” Mark demanded. “Say that you only found out about her last fall. Say you didn’t know about her before then.”

Jinyoung went quiet again. Staring him down, his eyes flickering with quiet intensity.

And Mark’s instinct was to fight it. Because he’d listened to Jinyoung’s story at the beginning. About how Sunny’s mom had never told him. How she’d waited until she was getting married. Until they reconnected again. He’d seen the documents. The pictures. The letter from Mark. The other letter from-

“Was that letter from her mom even real?”

Jinyoung sighed, going to sit on the edge of the bed. Leaning his elbows onto his legs. Taking a moment before he nodded. “It was real.”

Mark stepped closer, feeling the flicker of anger flare. “When did you get it?”

He stared up at him. “Six years ago,” he said. “After she got back from California. That’s when I found out.” 

Mark felt a wave of seething rage crash over everything. “You-”

“Mark, please,” Jinyoung looked up at him. “You have to understand-”

“Understand what?” Mark bit out. “That you lied to me? That you knew this whole time where she was and yet you didn’t come and find her? That you were so caught up in becoming this famous actor-”

“That wasn’t it,” Jinyoung said, voice firm. “You have to see how hard it was for me. I couldn’t tell anyone. I was so alone.”

“You weren’t alone,” Mark snapped. “You were the farthest thing from alone.”

Jinyoung’s face twisted up in disgust. “What does that even mean?”

Mark gritted his teeth together. “Your friend Jihyun told me about your reputation.”

He rolled his eyes, face falling again. “I don’t know what he told you but-”

“How many people have you slept with in that bed we’ve been sharing? Hm?”

“You can’t hold that against me, Mark,” Jinyoung shook his head. “That was before I knew you.”

Mark huffed, crossing his arms. “What about when you came home last time? Were you still bringing people home? Hell, did you know Sujin then? Did you bring her home?”

Jinyoung scowled at him. Falling silent for a moment before he licked his lips. “I never held Youngjae against you,” he said. “Cause it had nothing to do with me.” 

“Who even are you, Jinyoung?” Mark roared. “Who has been living in my house for the past seven months?”

His eyes softened. Hurt. “You know me.”

“No. I don’t,” Mark shook his head. “Because the Jinyoung I know wouldn’t have let anything come between him and Sunny. Especially not for six years.”

“It wasn’t that easy,” Jinyoung said, looking down into his hands.

“Tell me then,” Mark came close enough to reach under his chin. To force him to meet his eyes. “What stopped you?”

Jinyoung’s face was timid. He swallowed. “I was scared, Mark,” he whispered, eyes going glossy. “Scared about my career. And my family. And-”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Mark sighed, dropping his hand.

“I was young,” Jinyoung said, a little harder.

Mark threw his hands. “So was I.”

“I wasn’t like you, Mark,” he argued, glaring at him. “I wasn’t ready to be a dad.”

“Well, it’s not like you’re ready now!” Mark screamed.

“You don’t mean that,” Jinyoung shook his head, voice choking up. “You know I can be a good dad. You’ve seen it.”

Mark stared at him, seeing the way his face was starting to redden with tears. Staring at him with so much disgust. Sneering out his words. “Maybe I was just seeing what I wanted to see.”

Jinyoung looked up at him, tears breaking down his face. His eyes doing that quiet begging that Mark was so familiar with. More intense than it had ever been. And yet Mark wasn’t even sure if he could recognize him.

Mark swallowed. “Me and her are flying home tonight,” he said, turning for the door.

Jinyoung followed him out into the living room. “You can’t do that,” he pleaded. “She loves it here. This is her home. She’s Korean.” He reached out, trying to grab Mark’s wrist.

Mark yanked it back. “She’s American, Jinyoung,” he roared. “And I am her father. I decide what’s best for her.”

The red in Jinyoung’s cheeks turned violent. “I’m her dad too,” he thundered.

“No, you’re not!” Mark screamed. “You not knowing how to use a condom doesn't make you a parent!"

“She’s mine,” Jinyoung gritted through his teeth. His tone biting through. “She’s always been mine. Since the day I named her.”

Mark scoffed, “What the fuck does that even-”

“I named her, Mark,” he fumed.

“You didn’t,” he bit out. “Her mom-”

“Sunja asked _me_ ,” he seethed, pointing a finger in his chest. “She asked me what names I liked for a child. For maybe our child one day. When we were settled and married and out of the public eye. And I thought she was just talking in hypotheticals. How was I supposed to know she was already there with us?” 

Mark watched him. Saw the way he was falling apart as he recounted the story.

“And I told her,” he choked, throat thick and wet. “I said I wanted to have a girl and I wanted to name her Haeseon.”

Mark felt the breath leave his chest, struggling to take in another one. “You didn’t,” he swallowed, disbelieving. Begging for it not to be true.

“I did,” he smiled, but it was broken, pained. “And now she’s here. She’s here, Mark. And she’s perfect. She’s absolutely perfect,” his expression turning again, flooding with contempt. “But you want to tell me she’s not mine?”

Mark felt the burn of rage, rising up to meet Jinyoung’s. “You lost your chance. You had six years to stand up. To take ownership. But you didn’t. You were selfish. And clearly, you still are.”

“How dare you say I am the selfish one!” Jinyoung yelled. “How dare you say I had a chance. I haven’t had a chance since she went home from the hospital with you.” He reached out, fisting his hands in Mark’s shirt and drawing him closer. Nearly spitting each word. “I tried everything. I played by all your rules. I took care of your house. I loved Sunny. I loved you, too. But it wasn’t enough. _Nothing_ I do will never be enough for you. Because you’re proud and you’re stubborn and it _kills_ you that you aren’t her real father. It _kills_ you that you’ll never be me.”

Mark stayed there, pulled close. Feeling the heat from Jinyoung’s body and his hands and his breath. Burning so hot that Mark couldn’t feel anything. Nothing but this sick desire to beat him at his own game.

“It doesn’t matter who her real father is,” he shook his head. “Because she’s never going to see him again.”

And all that ferocity in Jinyoung’s face fell, his hands unclenching. “Mark,” he pleaded. “You can’t do that. I need to see her. You can’t-” his breaths turned shorter, panicking. “Y-you wouldn’t do that.”

“Sunny and I are going home,” Mark bit out, pushing Jinyoung’s hands away. “And if you want to see what I would do, you show up on my doorstep again and act entitled to something that was never yours to begin with and you’ll see _exactly_ what I’ll do.”

Mark stepped back, taking a final look at him. The fear in his eyes and the tears down his cheeks and the unsteady, involuntary caving of his chest. And he never felt so disgusted with someone. He turned away, leaving out of the front door.

And when he got in the elevator, pressing the button for the first floor, the doors closed. His reflection stared back. All misshapen, distorted. The places in his shirt still stretched from Jinyoung’s grasp. And then he thought, looking into his hard, dark eyes, that he’d never felt so disgusted with someone.

He tried to breathe, tried to relieve the burn of his chest, but relief wouldn’t come. He blinked, feeling his eyes well up. Backing himself into the wall and slumping down onto the floor of the elevator, clutching his knees as the sobs violently shuddered out of him. And once they started, they wouldn’t stop. They wouldn’t quiet.

Mark looked up when the elevator doors opened. Seeing a stranger stop in the doorway, looking down at him. A look of panic across her features. Blurred through the coat of tears in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, picking himself up, trying to wipe his eyes. Weaving past her. Running through the lobby and out the doors and into that dusk rain. Feeling it mix with the tears on his face like it was hopeless to even try to wipe them away. 

Hopeless. So hopeless. 

He looked up into the sky.

“I’m sorry.”


	16. Sixteen.

By the time Mark got to Jaebeom’s mom’s apartment, he was soaked from head to foot. He had missed his stop on the train. Because when he got on the subway, all he could feel were people’s eyes on him, wide and staring at the foreigner. Like the country had some kind of immune response to outsiders. And when the stares became too much, he faced the windows, staring off as the inside of the underground rushed by. Watching his reflection in the blackness. Not sure if what he kept wiping off his face was rain or tears. 

And when he missed his stop, he considered taking the train back, but he couldn’t stand the idea of those eyes on him again. So he walked the length back to Jaebeom’s in the rain. Arriving at his door much later than he intended and ringing the doorbell.

Jaebeom came to the door, his eyes going wide. Looking Mark’s wet clothes up and down. “You couldn’t have hailed a taxi?” he asked. He looked back to Mark’s eyes. And he must have seen something in them. “What’s wrong?” he said, face suddenly flooded with worry.

Mark tried to find his voice through the weakness in his throat, but it just came out feeble and broken. “Are the boys asleep?” he croaked.

Jaebeom blinked, studying his face with quiet intensity. “Yeah,” he breathed. “All three are asleep in the other room.”

Mark pushed through him in the doorway, going to the guest bedroom where their things were and feeling Jaebeom follow in his shadow. “I need to get Sunny. I need to pack.”

“Pack?” Jaebeom asked, panic in his voice. “Where are you going?”

Mark knelt to the mat on the floor, starting to put their bags together. “We are leaving tonight,” he said, firmly.

“Tonight?” Jaebeom asked, sound distressed as he shut the bedroom door behind him. “Why tonight? What’s the rush? What happened?”

Mark looked back at him. And he tried to string the words together. He opened his mouth, willing himself to admit it. But when he tried, he couldn’t. And all that came up was the gloss of his eyes that blurred Jaebeom’s distraught face.

His broad shoulders fell. “Oh, Mark,” he sighed. “What did you do?”

The tears broke down his face, lip quivering. Everything caving in until he was sitting down onto the mat, drawing his knees up. His shoulders shaking as he lost it, hands going up to his face to stifle the sobbing. Everything feeling so broken and wet and hopeless. Voice cracking around the tears, “I’m such an idiot, Jaebeom.”

Jaebeom came forward, sitting down next to him. His hand going to Mark’s back, but Mark couldn’t feel the warmth of him through his wet clothes. He couldn’t feel anything but the tremble of his body as he cried.

“You’re not,” Jaebeom sighed.

Mark couldn’t stop. Each gasping breath burned deep in his chest. He tried to quiet himself but he felt like he was suffocating. “He knew this whole time,” he sobbed, shaking his head in his hands. “He knew about her. Always knew.”

Jaebeom’s hand moved in circles on his back, trying futility to soothe him. “I know.”

Mark’s chest seized, drawing his face up to look at him. Seeing the lack of surprise in his face and knowing it was true. “When did-”

“When we first met, he told me,” Jaebeom explained, voice soft. He shook his head. “I don’t know why. I guess he just needed to tell someone.”

Mark’s eyes narrowed, more tears cascading down his cheeks. Feeling the flicker of anger spark alongside all the pain. “And you didn’t tell me,” he said, voice sharp and accusatory.

Jaebeom shook his head again. Licking his lips and weighing his words. “It’s not representative of who he is now,” he finally said.

Mark pulled away from his touch, chest shuddering on every intake. That flicker catching fire, spreading down him. Not drying his tears, but making them go hot with rage. “How can you say that?”

“If you had found out,” Jaebeom tried to explain. “All you’d be able to see was those six years he didn’t come.”

“Instead of what?” Mark gritted out through his teeth.

“The fact that he came,” Jaebeom said. “He didn’t have to come, Mark.”

Mark couldn’t listen to anything he was saying, too wrapped up in the volatile mix of pain and fury consuming him. “I can’t believe you,” he hissed. “You just kept pushing me towards him.”

“Mark,” Jaebeom called louder, trying to get his attention. “Jinyoung was late. But he’s here. And he’s given you everything.”

Mark rose to his feet, standing over him. “He’s given me nothing,” he seethed. “Nothing but lies.”

Jaebeom stared at him, disengaging. Mouth going flat. Like Mark was some runaway train that couldn’t be stopped.

Mark’s eyes cast down toward the floor, something in him deadening with shame. “He told me he’s her real dad.”

Jaebeom’s eyes went wide. “He said that?”

He swallowed down his tears, wiping his eyes. “Told me he chose her name. So she’s his.”

The man’s eyes went tender, empathetic. “You don’t believe that,” he said softly. “He’s just mad. You were both just mad.”

Mark felt everything dying too quickly inside of him, going solemn and cold and numb. “I don’t know what to believe,” he said. “I obviously don’t know who he is.”

Jaebeom shook his head, “You can’t just leave.”

“It’s over, Jaebeom,” he shrugged, lifelessly. “There’s nothing left for Sunny and I here.”

Jaebeom stood up, coming closer. “It doesn’t have to be over,” he said, voice firm.

Mark looked at him, incredulous. “How can you say that? When he’s misled me every step of the way,” he sneered. “He said anything, did anything to get what he wanted. To get to her.”

Jaebeom sighed. “That’s not-”

“Why do you keep advocating for him?” Mark asked, narrowing his eyes. “Whose side are you on?”

“Yours,” he said, surely. “I want you to be happy.”

Mark scoffed. “I’ll be happy when I’m back in Los Angeles,” he stated. “I’ll be happy when I never see his face again.”

“Dad?”

Mark’s eyes went to the doorway, seeing Sunny standing there. Leaning on one foot and rubbing her tired eyes.

“You’re back?” she asked.

Mark felt that hollowness in his chest deepen. “Yeah, baby,” he sighed. “Come on. Get your things together. We’re going home.”

She blinked, brows furrowing. “Now?” she asked, confused. “I thought we weren’t leaving for a few more days.”

“We weren’t,” Mark said, starting to take off his soaked jacket, sorting through his clothes for something clean and dry. “But something came up and Daddy wants to go home now.”

“But, I don’t want to go home,” she shook her head.

Mark’s shoulders fell. “Sunny,” he pleaded. “Please.”

“I’m having fun,” she said, firmer. “I like it here.”

“Sunny,” he warned. No more pleading in his voice, only demand. “Not everything is about you.”

She came forward, eyebrows furrowing even deeper into a scowl. Fisting her hands at her sides as she started to protest. “I have more things I want to do,” she insisted. “Jinyoung and I were going to go-”

“Well, Jinyoung isn’t here!” Mark snapped. “ _I’m_ here. And _I’m_ your father so you’re going to listen to me.”

She gritted her teeth, stomping her foot. “No!” she fumed. “I’m not going!”

“Enough!” he screamed. 

She went quiet, mouth small and eyes big. Breaths seething from her little chest.

Mark felt the sting of remorse, but the fury was so much stronger. “This isn’t up for discussion,” he bit out. “We’re leaving now.”

Her breaths got shorter, her face starting to redden. Eyes welling up with tears. “Dad,” she begged. “Please.”

And Mark looked at her, seeing that dangerous mix of sadness and fury and pleading. Just the same as it had been on Jinyoung. And in the moment, all he could see was their glaring similarities, from her firm stance to her devastatingly identical eyes, making him feel too much. Making that part of him that was still burning with rage speak so much louder than any other instinct. That scalding, agonizing thought that maybe Jinyoung was right. Maybe, just like those eyes, she’d always been Jinyoung’s.

He swallowed it down, turning away from her. “You can cry all you want,” he said, cold and unwavering. “It’s not going to change this.”

Sunny sniffled, trying to speak. “Uncle Jaebeom, please,” she said, looking to him.

Mark raised his eyes, staring Jaebeom down. Seeing the way everything in him went soft at the sight of Sunny’s tears before turning to meet Mark’s eyes. The uneasiness so vivid across his sharp features. Nearly pleading for Mark to not let this fall to him.

But Mark didn’t free him, he just kept pinning him down with his scowl. Thinking about how his best friend had withheld the truth from him for so long. When he trusted him above anyone else. When he confided in him. Listened to him. Got closer to Jinyoung under his direction.

Jaebeom’s expression hardened. He cast his eyes down to the floor, full of shame. “Listen to your father,” he murmured to Sunny. “Get your things together.”

\---

Mark stayed awake the whole flight. Just sitting, thinking. Losing himself in the timeless vacuum of recycled air and passengers snoring and bumpy drink carts. Looking over occasionally to Sunny at his side. She was in and out of sleep, like she was grumpy. Sighing and adjusting herself and changing direction. Never laying herself on Mark’s shoulder or his lap like she typically would. Never looking at him at all. And he didn’t know what to do about it. How to reconcile his love for her with her anger. His urge to soothe her with his reluctance to meet her eyes. And he had the passing thought about last time she was this mad, after the field trip to the zoo. Remembering the way Jinyoung had smiled in the doorway as she apologized. And his chest immediately stirred, knowing Jinyoung would be able to soothe her better than he could.

When they were exiting the airport, it was nearly dinner time. The air was warm and dry and it automatically had Mark breathing a sigh of relief as if he’d been holding it in since he got on that plane to Korea.

“Come on, Sunny,” he said. “Let’s get a car home.”

And she dragged her feet from behind him, not speaking.

A honk sounded from the pick up line. Mark didn’t notice it at first but it kept sounding, getting closer.

“Hey!”

Mark looked up, watching a car pull up alongside them. 

Jackson was sitting behind the wheel, a small smile across his face. “Need a ride?” he yelled, through the window.

“Uncle Jackson!” Sunny cheered. The first words out of her mouth since they’d taken off.

Mark stood there, bags in hand as Jackson parked, getting out of the car and scooping Sunny up into a big hug.

“Come on,” he said, swinging her. “We need to go pick up Milo, don’t we?” He looked to Mark, gauging his reaction.

The sight of Jackson’s face brought mixed feelings. Mark felt all that animosity he’d felt the last time he’d seen him, standing in his kitchen and yelling at him. He felt all that tension he always carried when Jackson cornered him, usually offering his ambiguous warnings that did nothing but provoke his anxiety. And he felt… relief. At a familiar smile. At a kind gesture. At the way Sunny was beaming for the first time in hours.

Mark sighed. Looking into Jackson’s hesitant eyes. He nodded. 

They got on the road, heading towards Mark’s parents’ house. Sunny fell asleep in the backseat almost immediately. Jackson didn’t play any music, he just let the quiet stretch on between them. Almost like a challenge of who could withstand it longer.

Mark could not. “Did he tell you to come?” he asked softly, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Of course he did,” Jackson said.

“So you know.”

Jackson was quiet for a long moment. “Yeah, I know.”

And it hurt for some reason. Maybe it was the shame or the reminder of it. Thinking back to his talk with Jaebeom, to the things he’d been withholding from Mark. “Did you know?” he asked. “About his secret?”

Jackson shrugged, adjusting his hands against the wheel. “I had an idea,” he admitted. “Of course, Jaebeom wouldn’t tell me anything. But I could read my husband well enough to know it was something big.”

“That’s why you were so hesitant of him,” Mark sighed, realizing.

“Yeah,” Jackson nodded. “That’s why.”

Mark held his breath. “Well,” he licked his lips. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Jackson looked over to him, brows knitting together. “To do what?”

“Tell me I told you so.”

“Mark,” Jackson’s shoulders fell. “I would never. You think I’m happy this happened? You think I wanted to be right?”

“Knowing you?” Mark raised a brow. “Probably.”

Jackson rolled his eyes. “I never want to see my best friend hurt,” he said. “Even if he was being a total ass to me.”

Mark remembered their argument, the things he’d said. How he let spite fuel his trip to Korea. Recklessly thinking that maybe all it had been was a warm up for the things to come. For his fight with Jinyoung, for using spite to fuel so much worse things. Permanent things. “I’m sorry,” Mark said. “I shouldn’t have said those things. Done those things. I don’t know what came over me.”

“You were in love,” Jackson shrugged.

And it hurt more than it should have. The implication of those words. That he had really loved Jinyoung. Because he had. He really loved him. But only as far as he knew him. Only the kind, understanding, perfect Jinyoung that had become his in California. Not the man he’d met in Korea. Not the selfish, dishonest, vicious Jinyoung he’d proven to be. 

Maybe Jackson saw that struggle playing out across his face. “Are you still in love?” he asked.

Mark scoffed, “Don’t ask me that, Jackson.”

“It’s okay to admit it,” he said, voice small.

“I’m just,” Mark breathed. Quelling the anger again. “I’m trying to come to terms with it being over.”

And Jackson must not have wanted to push him anymore, because they stayed quiet for the rest of the ride.

When they got to Mark’s parent’s house, he stood on her front step, taking Milo back into his arms.

“Where is she?” his mom asked.

“She’s asleep in the car,” he said simply. Deciding to leave out that she was brutally angry with him. 

Milo squirmed until Mark put him down, shaking his white curls and looking up at him.

“Thank you for watching him,” he told her. “Sorry, we decided to end the trip a little early.”

“Why is that?” she asked. “What happened with Jinyoung?”

And Mark was taken off guard by the way she was able to read him without him even saying anything. He looked up at her, watching the uneasy look tightening her face. Like she was waiting for him to say something she already knew. Something bigger than just a simple breakup. “You know, don’t you?”

She folded her arms over her chest, trying to look more relaxed, “Know what?”

“About him,” he said. “Who he is.”

She looked at him, biting at the inside of her cheek. “Mark,” she sighed.

“Tell me.”

“Of course I know,” she admitted, giving a small smile that was layered with hurt. “That little girl is my baby. How could I not see her in him?”

Mark hurt again. Deeper this time considering who it was coming from. Knowing that his mother had diligently been holding this secret the whole time. Waiting for Mark to open up and tell her. But he hadn’t, because he hadn’t wanted to admit how complicated it all was. He just wanted so badly for it to be normal. For it to work out despite all their reservations. But even his best intentions couldn’t have held them together. 

He felt his eyes well up with tears again. As if his body had replenished his supply. He wiped them away, quickly. “Well, it doesn’t really matter anymore,” he breathed. “It’s over. Between me and him.”

“Because of you?” she asked. “Or because of him?”

Mark’s eyes went down to Milo who was staring up at him expectantly. He reached his hand out, watching Milo’s paws come up to his knee, preening up to be pet. “I haven’t figured that out yet,” he said softly, scratching the puppy’s head. He looked up at her, seeing the tears in her eyes. “Mom.”

She shook her head. “I don’t like seeing you hurt,” she choked out.

He sighed. “I know,” he said. Because he did. He was a parent too. He reached out, embracing her and letting his head fall to her shoulder. Holding back the tears he was so desperate to get out. Because they wouldn’t have made his next words sound very convincing. “I’ll be okay,” he assured her, not certain he believed it yet. “We will be okay.” He pulled away, looking back towards the car. “We should be getting home. She’s exhausted.”

His mom touched his shoulder. “If you need anything, you can ask for it.”

“I don’t need anything,” he shook his head. “I just need to sleep this whole nightmare off.”

When they finally arrived home, Sunny gave Jackson a quick goodbye before running inside with Milo. 

Mark watched them go, sighing and looking to Jackson.

“She’ll be okay,” Jackson reassured him. “Let her sleep this off.” He helped Mark with their bags before reaching out and pulling him into a tight hug.

“Jackson,” Mark huffed. “Come on. I got to go.”

“Hey,” he pulled away, looking at him. “We’re here. Jaebeom will be home soon. We can all hang out together. Get some drinks. Forget about all this.”

Mark stared back. Not sure it was what he wanted. Because all he really wanted right now was to go back in time and burn that script on his doorstep. To go back up to Jinyoung sleeping in his bed and convince him to stay forever. He tried not to fall into that daydream, nodding instead, “I’ll let you know.”

Mark got inside, dropping the bags by the door and looking up at the house. Bigger than he remembered it. Emptier.

“Sunny,” he called, going to the kitchen. “Come here.”

She came out from her room, holding Milo in her arms like a baby.

“I’m going to order some dinner,” he said, taking out his phone. “What do you want?”

She shook her head, “I don’t care.”

“Yes, you do,” he scoffed. “Just tell me.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Sunny-” 

“When Jinyoung comes back, can we go to the beach again?” she asked, eyes round. “I think that would make you happy. If we all went to the beach again.”

Mark looked at her in the doorway of the kitchen, seeing the sincerity on her face. Her desire to make this better. Even if she was mad. And it should have been sweet. But Mark was tired and angry and hurt and all he could hear was the futile hopefulness in her voice. All he could see were all those similarities they shared. Like Jinyoung was a ghost that had followed him home. He swallowed, messing with the phone in his hand. “Jinyoung’s not coming back.”

Sunny’s eyebrows furrowed, letting Milo down. “Yes, he is,” she said. “When he’s done making his movie, he said he’d come back.”

Mark shook his head. “Not this time,” he said. “He’s staying in Korea from now on.”

Her face went more panicked. Her voice rushing. “But he has to coach soccer. And help take care of the plants. And help me practice for the play.”

Mark scoffed, “I can do those things too, you know?”

“He has to come back,” Sunny protested. She blinked up at him. “Let me call him. I need to tell him,” she rushed forward, reaching for Mark’s phone.

“No,” Mark pulled it from her reach but she just kept fighting for it. Jumping and pushing, breathing too hard. 

“Sunny, stop. You're not calling him,” he said firmer, pushing her away. Feeling that heated anger coming up his spine.

But she didn’t stop. “Please,” she gasped, reaching again. “Let me talk to him,” the tears were welling up into her voice.

“Stop!” he shouted. “Look,” he opened his phone, going to Jinyoung’s contact. “I’m deleting him.” He scrolled all the way down, clicking the red ‘Delete Contact’ text at the bottom. “See?” he showed her. “He’s gone. So, stop fucking asking.” 

She backed down, staring up at him. Her eyes growing wet. “Why did you do that?” she choked out.

Mark seethed. “Because you're not talking to him. You’re not seeing him. You’re not speaking about him,” he fumed. “It’s over. He’s not in our lives anymore.”

Her mouth fell open, the tears streaking down her face. Her whole body trembling as she started to weep.

“Sunny,” he rolled his eyes. “Quit it.”

“Why are you doing this?” she sobbed.

“Stop crying,” he said more firmly. “Sunny-”

“I don’t understand,” she whined, trying to breathe. “Why isn’t he coming back? Why couldn’t I say goodbye to him?”

Mark shook his head, disengaging. Shutting himself down. “We aren’t talking about him anymore.”

“Why not?” she screamed.

He snapped. “Because I said so!”

“Tell me,” she cried, reaching up for his hands, his shirt, anything. “Dad. Please. I love him. I need to see him.”

“Sunny!” he hissed, pulling away from her. “That’s enough. He’s not coming back. Just forget him. He’s nothing.”

“H-how can you be so mean?” she stuttered, her face flooded with tears.

“Stop crying,” he commanded. He scoffed. “Stop crying or you’ll go to your room.”

“Fine!” she shrieked. “Don’t talk to me anymore!” She turned, running for her room and slamming the door.

Mark felt the whole house rattle. Down to his bones. Looking down and seeing the places she’d pulled at his shirt. Just like Jinyoung had. And he carefully walked himself up the stairs to his bedroom.

He opened the door, seeing the perfectly made bed. The peace lily on the dresser. Everything some snapshot of how it had been before. How perfect it had been. Only reminding him how ruined it was.

He laid down in his bed, getting under the covers, before putting his face to the pillow and sobbing harder than he ever had.

\---

Two days passed by in the blink of an eye. Sunrises and sunsets. Mark didn’t leave his room a lot. He’d go downstairs. Make some food for Sunny, leave it out. In a few more hours, it would be gone. They didn’t cross paths. It was probably better that way.

Mark cried a lot. In the mornings when the sun was bright and he was just waking up and he could almost imagine the other side of the bed weighed down by Jinyoung. Almost imagine that if he turned around, he could catch a glimpse of him waking up. Bleary and sleepy and Mark’s. He didn’t turn around, he just got up, closing the curtains before laying back down again.

He stared at the space in his phone contacts. Where the O’s turned to P’s. Where Jinyoung’s name should have been. But it wasn’t there anymore. Another spiteful act that backfired.

In the evenings, he’d drift in and out of sleep. Cold against his back where Jinyoung was no longer pressing against it. When he’d get too restless, he’d get up. Walking around the house. Everything seeming quieter. Emptier. Looking out the glass as the blue light shined from the pool. It was covered in leaves and fronds that Mark hadn’t gotten around to cleaning. And in his mind, he could almost imagine Jinyoung leaning against the ledge, glistening and smiling. How Mark would have given anything to be pulled in, even if it meant never resurfacing again.

On the third day, his phone rang three times. He was in bed, on his second bowl of cereal for the day. He looked to the screen, seeing Jaebeom’s name again. He ignored the call. When he was done, he put the bowl onto his bedside table, laying back down and falling back into one of those cycles between being not quite awake but not quite asleep.

Somewhere in it, he felt that weighted feeling of the bed. Half-asleep and damning himself for imagining things. Feeling it shift closer and closer.

“Dad,” said a hesitant voice behind him.

He blinked awake, turning and seeing Sunny sitting on the bed. Her wide eyes, her hands in her lap. He took in a deep breath, stretching. “What is it, baby?”

“Can we go to the park today?” she asked, voice quiet.

Mark looked out the window, seeing the shine of the midday sun fighting through the curtains. And he tried to lift his body but everything felt so heavy. He licked his lips. “Daddy can’t do today, Sunny,” he looked over.

She looked close to crying. “Please,” she whispered.

Mark felt the pain in his chest deepen, hating himself. “Why don't you call Yugyeom and Bambam?” he said, grabbing his phone and tossing it towards her. “See if they want to go.”

Sunny looked at the phone on the bed, shaking her head. “I don’t want to go with them,” she said, looking back up at him. “I want to go with you."

Mark tried to keep looking at her. But he couldn’t. It was too hard. He turned away, back towards the window. “Today’s not a good day,” he said.

He heard Sunny exhale, felt her get off the bed and leave. And when he turned back over, the phone was gone.

“She’ll be okay,” he said, repeating Jackson’s words to himself. “She’ll be okay.” And with that he faded into another restless sleep.

When he woke up again, the light outside the windows was gone. And he had two sets of eyes on him. Jackson and Jaebeom stood next to his bed, worried looks in their eyes.

“Welcome home, Jaebeom,” Mark said, rolling onto his back. “What are you two doing here?”

“Sunny called us,” Jackson said. “We took her to the park.”

“Good,” Mark nodded, eyes closing again. “Good for her.”

“Mark,” Jaebeom called, sitting down on the bed near his feet. “We need to talk.”

He looked over at both of them, seeing how serious their faces were. He sighed, sitting up against the headboard. “What do you want?”

The couple looked at each other. 

Jackson’s tongue worked into his cheek. “Look. We understand,” he said. “Your heart is broken.”

Mark huffed. “Yeah, right,” he smirked. “As if you two could get it.” He looked at both of them, narrowing his eyes. “Both of you are so happy to have each other.”

Jackson nodded, “So we know what it would be like to lose the other.”

Mark’s smile spread wider. “It’s not the same,” he shook his head.

Jackson’s chest fell, looking over to Jaebeom.

Jaebeom put a hand to Mark’s knee. “We know you’re hurting,” he said. “But... you’re a dad at the end of the day. You don’t have the luxury of a day off. You don’t have the luxury of nursing a broken heart. Because she’s here and she needs you.”

Mark looked at him. A sad smirk toying at one side of his mouth. “I can’t be what she needs right now,” he swallowed. “She doesn’t want me. She wants him.”

“No,” Jaebeom said. “She wants you. She wants her dad.”

Mark laughed, callous and hollow. And it caved in his chest like his body was sure it was just another sob. “What does that word even mean anymore?”

“It means you made a promise to love her and take care of her no matter what,” Jackson stepped forward, voice getting sharper like he was getting frustrated. “You love her, don’t you?”

Jaebeom put a hand to his husband’s chest, pushing him back a little.

Mark glared at him. “Of course, I do.”

“Then, be her father,” Jackson said, firmly.

“Can’t you see it?” Mark shook his head. “ _Everything_ she does. Every movement she makes. Everything she says. Every time she looks at me. _Everything_ just reminds me of him.”

Jaebeom’s hand squeezed down on his knee. “Mark,” he breathed. “You have to let that go. You can’t change that.”

Mark looked at them, the tears welling up again. “I can’t,” he whispered. “I can’t do it.”

Jackson leaned against the window sill, crossing his arms over his chest. “Today at the park, she tried to ask us what she did wrong. Why you’re so mad,” his eyes got wider. “She thinks this is her fault.”

Mark thought back to her crying in the kitchen, asking question after question. And how he responded to her, getting mean and withholding any real answers. He hissed, the tears breaking down his face. “God, I’m awful,” he whimpered, face going into his hands. “I was awful to her.”

Jaebeom reached for his hands, pulling them away. “You need to talk to her,” he said. “She needs to know what happened. She needs to hear it from you.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Mark choked. “There’s nothing I can say. She loved him. And we ruined it for her.”

“Tell her the truth,” Jackson nodded. “You’ve always been good at that.”

“I can’t right now,” Mark shook his head, nearly hyperventilating. “I’m not okay. I can’t face her. I can’t-”

“We know, we know,” Jaebeom soothed, squeezing his hands. “We are going to take her for two nights, okay?” 

Mark stopped, looking up at them.

“But after that, you need to talk to her,” Jackson said. “Because you can’t take this out on her anymore.”

Mark drew his hands away from Jaebeom’s, wiping his nose and his eyes. “Thank you,” he said.

“Take some time, Mark,” Jaebeom said, getting up. “Get it all out. But when she comes home, put it behind you. Be her dad again.”

They each hugged him before leaving and Mark listened to the sounds of them helping Sunny gather her things. The soft voices they used when talking to her. And Mark so badly wanted to go down there and scoop her up into his arms, but he knew all he was fit for right now was being alone. So he cried. And he cried harder when the front door shut, leaving the house quiet again.

Sometime later, when he’d exhausted himself from crying but was still too restless to sleep, he went downstairs, grabbing some water in the kitchen. But he noticed Sunny’s door was still open. He went in.

Milo was sitting on her bed, raising his head to look at Mark.

He sighed. “You got stuck here with me?” he smirked, watching the puppy’s tail wag in response.

He looked away, up at his daughter’s walls. Admiring the pictures she’d drawn and the photos she’d taken. All of them neatly aligned against the wall, edges meeting. But in the middle, there were two that were glaringly missing from the rest. Just pieces of tape from where they had formerly been. Mark looked around, unable to locate them.

Milo whimpered on the bed.

Mark sighed, coming closer and sitting down next to him. “What is it, boy?”

Milo got up from where he was laying, shaking himself off and jumping down to stand by the door.

“You need to go out?” he asked.

Milo wagged his tail.

Mark started to get up, something catching his eye. He looked down to the bed, where Milo had been laying. And there he saw two polaroids staring back. He grabbed them, raising them to his eyes.

They were both from Christmas. One of Mark and Jinyoung. Jinyoung was sitting on the floor with Mark’s arms wrapped around him, holding him tightly from behind. Both of their smiles so wide and happy. The second one was all three of them, leaning close together. Sunny sitting in the middle with puppy Milo on her lap.

Mark felt a stabbing pain in his chest that had his eyes tearing up.

Milo’s collar shook from the doorway. 

He sighed, putting the photos on Sunny’s bedside before getting up. He wiped his eyes as he walked Milo out to the living room, opening the glass door and watching him go out.

He walked himself around the living room, thinking back to that picture of him and Jinyoung. Of Christmas and how wonderful it had been. How Jinyoung had cuddled him on the couch the night before. How they’d spoken so close and so openly. How Mark woke up the next day and looked over at him and felt like he could see everything in him. He stopped in his tracks, realizing latently that it was the moment Mark fell in love with Jinyoung.

But he ached when he remembered that it hadn’t been real. It had been some misconstrued place between reality and whatever image Jinyoung had been keeping when he was there. Some picture of himself that didn’t line up with the truth. And Mark stared down at the living room floor, remembering when he’d laid Jinyoung bare for the first time. Called him perfect. But the ache only deepened. Because it hadn’t been real either.

He felt that ache everywhere. In the throb of his head from where he’d cried too much, eyes stinging and lungs tired. In his heart that wouldn’t stop breaking even when he thought it couldn’t anymore. He raised his eyes back up, trying not to think. Trying to just quiet his mind, but when he looked up to the mantle, he saw it. The bonsai plant. Hearing Jinyoung’s voice in his ears.

_“All of us can take care of it. Together.”_

Together. There was no more together. Together was out the window from the moment Jinyoung sat on the couch for the first time and lied his way into Mark’s life. Told him he’d just found out about Sunny. And he kept lying. Kept pretending he was something he wasn’t. And the more Mark looked at that plant on the mantle, the more he hated it. And with no more tears left, he felt anger take its place. Anger so vicious that it ripped him apart. Had him stepping up to the mantle and grabbing that plant. Holding it over his head and hurling it to the living room floor.

It made the most awful sound. A loud and jarring shatter when the porcelain hit the wood. Smashing into a million pieces. The soil covering everything and the bonsai plant itself laying against the floor. Its roots a mangled mess of earth, exposed and fragile.

Mark’s chest shuddered, looking down at it. And maybe in his rage, he’d thought it would feel good. But it didn’t. It just gave him one more thing to clean up. One more thing to explain to Sunny. One more thing to throw away.

He stepped over the mess, tracking soil with his footprints as he ran back upstairs, stripping off his three day old pajamas as he went. He went to the shower and turning it on and standing under the cold water. Letting it soak him down to his bones.

“When will I learn?” he hissed, shivering and pressing his forehead against the tile. “When will I stop fucking it up and learn?”

And just when he thought he had no more tears left, he found them again. Choking out of him and echoing across the bathroom.

When they ran out again, he turned the shower off. Changing his clothes and crawling up into bed. He looked up at the ceiling.

Something jingled in the darkness. He turned towards it, watching Milo hop up onto the bed. The puppy crawled over, standing on his chest and licking his face.

“Milo,” he groaned, pulling away and looking up at him. 

The puppy laid down against his chest, his nose too close to Mark’s.

Mark sighed, letting his hands come up to pet him. “At least he brought us you, right, Milo?” He petted him, looking into his face. “We both need to be on our best behavior. Because Sunny needs us right now. Okay?”

Milo didn’t give much of a response.

“Alright,” Mark said, shifting the puppy next to him. “You lay here and we’ll go to sleep. And tomorrow, we’ll be better.”

\---

Two days later, the bonsai was sitting back on the mantle. A new pot, new soil, but alive nonetheless. The house was clean. The fridge was stocked. Milo was groomed.

Jaebeom and Jackson called Mark. 

“How are you doing?” they asked.

“I’m better,” Mark breathed, petting Milo with his free hand on the couch.

“Are you ready?” Jaebeom asked. “To talk to her?”

Mark felt the nervous twist of his stomach. “No,” he said. “But you both were right. I need to put it behind us.”

“Please,” Jackson begged. “If you need us-”

“I know, I know,” Mark huffed. “Just…” he sighed. “Thank you both. Really.”

“Of course,” Jaebeom said. “We’ll bring her over.”

When Sunny came in the door, Milo was the first to greet her. She bent down, petting at him.

“He missed you,” Mark said, walking up with a smile.

She looked up, eyes round, timid.

“Hey, Sunny Bunny,” he said. “Can we talk?”

She stared at him for a long moment. She nodded.

Mark sat her down on the couch next to him. He took her hands in his. “I lost my temper with you the other night. And I’m really sorry about that. It must have been scary.”

Sunny just kept staring. Like she wasn’t sure where this was going.

Mark swallowed. “You are a big girl. And you deserve more than just ‘Cause I said so.’ I owe you more than that. And I forget that sometimes,” he squeezed her hands. “I know you want to know why Jinyoung won’t be coming back.”

She seemingly leaned in closer.

“But the truth is...” Mark hesitated around the words, knowing they needed to be said. “Jinyoung isn’t Daddy’s boyfriend anymore.”

Sunny watched his face. Finding her voice. “Is he your friend then?”

“No,” Mark shook his head. “He’s not my friend either.”

“Why not?”

Mark bit his lips, fighting through the shame. “We had a fight,” he admitted. “We made mistakes. Said mean grown-up things to each other.”

Sunny blinked, eyebrows tilting, confused. “Can’t you just say sorry?”

Mark held a breath in his chest. “No,” he said. “There is no sorry big enough for this mistake.”

Sunny sat silent for a long while, looking off. Thinking and thinking. “So,” she looked back to him. “He won’t live here anymore?”

“No, he’ll live in Korea.”

Sunny’s voice got smaller, higher. “Will I get to see him?”

Mark squeezed her hands, trying to hold on. “I don’t know right now,” he confessed. “I don’t have all the answers. I wish I did, but I don’t. But I’m working really hard to be the best dad for Sunny and figure out what’s best for her.”

“But,” she blinked, face twisting up. “I miss him.”

Mark’s eyes welled up with tears. And he tried to blink them away but they just kept getting wetter. “I know you do,” he breathed. “Trust me. I do too.”

She watched his face. “Why are you crying?”

He looked up into the light, trying to hold them back. Wiping them away with his fingers. “Daddy is hurting a lot right now,” he sniffed. “He’s sad and angry and upset. Right here,” he pointed to his heart. “But I don’t want you to _ever_ feel for a moment that it was your fault.” He tried to smile. “Because my heart may be hurting right now, but my Sunny Bunny is one of the only people in this whole world that can help me fix it.”

Sunny looked down at their hands clasped together. “Jinyoung can’t help fix it?” she asked. “Is that cause he hurt it?”

Mark drew in a breath. Holding it in. “We hurt each other’s hearts,” he said. “A lot. That’s why we can’t be friends anymore.”

Sunny looked sad, hurt. “So, what will happen?”

Mark licked his lips. “You'll keep going to school. And I’ll keep going to work. And we will move forward one day at a time,” he nodded. “And we will still smile and laugh and play. I promise we will. But Daddy might not be very good at it for a while. I might need your help to remember how, okay?”

Sunny looked up at him. She raised a hand, putting it against his chest. “I’m helping,” she said. “I’m fixing it.”

Mark smiled, feeling the wetness in his throat. “Yes, you are,” he laughed. “Come here,” he hugged her, pulling her into his lap and kissing her face. “I love you so much,” he said, clutching her tightly. Remembering how she felt.

And when he pulled away, Sunny still looked sad but she tried to smile. “I love you too.”

And that was all Mark could ever ask for.

\---

The next month was busy. Soccer games and play practice and homework and sleepovers. More things on Mark’s plate than ever as he remembered what it was like raising Sunny without help again. But he didn’t mind. In fact, he welcomed it. Because it gave him the chance to not think about Korea. To just focus on Sunny and making sure she had everything she needed. All the love and support she could ever ask for.

Sure, there were still memories everywhere. In the Korean hair ties Sunny passed to him when she needed her hair braided and the plants they continued to take care of and the glaring reality that it was two again. The nights were the worst though. Mark so alone in his bed with no Sunny to distract from the flood of memories that kept working their way behind his eyes as he tried to fall asleep. He remembered beaches and bathtubs and falling asleep next to each other. And he ached to hear Jinyoung’s laugh, see his smile. But he had to keep remembering that his Jinyoung didn’t exist. He never had.

It was time for Mark to have another meeting with Youngjae. So he dropped Sunny off at Jackson and Jaebeom’s, driving to the school. And when Mark peeked into the classroom, it was that same familiar look. The lights low and the chairs empty. A quiet calm over the whole building. Youngjae was sitting at a desk, hunched over what looked like papers he was grading. 

Mark knocked against the doorframe. “Anyone home?”

Youngjae looked up from his papers, a hint of surprise in his wide eyes until they went smiling. His mouth curling at the edges. “You’re on time today.”

Mark shrugged. “I guess I am,” he shared his smile.

“Sit,” Youngjae said, beckoning to the chair in front of him. “Let’s talk.”

And so they did, about the last couple months of first grade and the events it would bring. Testing for second-grade comprehension that Youngjae was sure Sunny would pass with flying colors, play practice that was ongoing over the next few weeks, graduation on the horizon. And Mark felt a little sad, realizing that Mr. Choi wouldn’t be her teacher anymore. That she’d move on to someone else and he’d be relegated to waving at Youngjae in the drop-off loop.

“Are you still there?” Youngjae asked, leaning forward and looking up into his face. “Or did I lose you?”

Mark shook himself from the thought he was having, “No, no. I’m here.”

“I think that’s the gist of it,” he nodded, collecting papers together and handing them over to Mark. “But feel free to reach out if you have any questions.”

“Thanks, Youngjae,” he smiled, softly. “As always.”

The teacher kept staring at him, his smile faltering for just a moment. “How is everything?” he asked. “At home?”

Mark blinked. “It’s fine. Why?”

“I don’t know,” he said, fidgeting with a red pen. Voice sounding too passive, like he was trying not to care. “Things just seem… off.”

“With me?” Mark narrowed his eyes.

Youngjae winced. “With both of you,” he said, sounding like a confession.

Mark stared at him, eyes unmoving. Confused with what he meant.

Youngjae looked nervous, eyes casting down to his papers again. Rearranging them with no specific order, just trying to busy his hands. He cleared his throat. “Sunny’s not quite the same as she was,” he said. “She spaces out when she’d usually be focused. She’s timid where she usually could be confident. She’s quieter. A lot quieter.”

Mark felt the weight of it like a ton of bricks dropped onto his chest, expelling the breath in his chest. Playing back her face at home. How she’d look off sad when she thought Mark wasn’t looking. But Mark knew exactly what she was feeling. Because he missed him too. 

He felt uneasy around the words. But there was no use. Youngjae knew everything. He cast his eyes down to the linoleum. “Jinyoung and I broke up,” he breathed. He looked up, watching the way Youngjae was holding his eyes. Nothing wide or surprised in them. Only filled with pity. Mark hated it. “Please,” he sighed. “Don’t look at me like you knew it would happen.”

Youngjae shook his head. “That’s not what-” he stopped himself, being careful with his next words. “I’m sorry. I know you’re probably hurting.” But the words felt hollow, robotic.

“I’m fine,” Mark assured him. Because enough time had passed for it to be true, right? “It’s Sunny I am worried about.” 

“Why?”

Mark’s fingers wore at the edges of the papers in his hands. “It wasn’t her choice to have him gone,” he admitted. “It was my choice.”

“Gone?” Youngjae’s eyes narrowed. “She’s not going to see him anymore?”

“No,” he shook his head. “It’s probably best for both of us to just move on from that.”

The teacher’s face went cloudy, somewhere distant. His mouth parted and his eyes out of focus.

“Youngjae,” Mark called.

He blinked, coming back. “I’m sorry,” he said, softly. “I’m sure it hasn’t been easy on either of you.” 

Mark didn’t know whether he was supposed to confirm or deny it. So he didn’t. “We should head out,” he said. “You’ve probably had a long day.”

“Yeah,” Youngjae sighed, starting to collect his things. “I’ll walk you out,” he said, looking up at him as if to ask if it was okay.

Mark’s eyes flicked down, noticing the way the buttons of his shirt were slightly undone. The mole at his neck on full display, the one at the crux of his shoulder barely hidden in the shadow of the fabric.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “That would be nice.” 

They walked out of the school and unlike the previous time, they didn’t speak. Instead, they favored that silence and darkness of the building, using it to isolate their thoughts from each other. Mark passively replaying that view of Youngjae’s neck, his shoulders, his chest. Having passive memories of them over him, against him. And he hated, hated when the memory of skin morphed into other skin, Jinyoung’s skin. Beneath him, stretched out. The flicker of danger in his eyes. The parting of his mouth when he wanted to whine.

By the time they reached the parking lot, Mark was already shoving away those thoughts into places he hoped to never revisit. Instead, facing Youngjae head on. “Have a safe drive home,” he said, a polite smile pressed against his mouth as he turned toward his car. Pulling out his keys and unlocking it.

“You too,” Youngjae said. “And Mark-”

He turned to look back at him, his hand already on the handle of the door. He stilled, eyes traveling down Youngjae’s frame to fixate on his fingers as they nervously wore against the strap of his school bag.

Youngjae sighed, coming closer to stand across from him. His face looked pained, unsure. “I don’t know what happened. And I won’t pretend like I do,” he said. “But, take it from an adopted kid. You can’t cut him out of her life forever.” 

Mark’s shoulders tightened, watching the sincerity play out on Youngjae’s face. It sent a low blow to his stomach, one that had him leaning up against his car. Feeling some streak of stubbornness eager to bite back. “He’s a smattering of genes rearranged in a similar pattern,” he sneered. “There is no magic thread between them. You said it yourself, he’s just a person.”

Everything about Youngjae softened. His eyes and his shoulders and his voice. “He’s just a person,” he said. “But if you kick him out of her life forever, you make a martyr out of him. And she’s only going to resent you for that.”

It wasn’t something he’d thought about. The longevity of having Jinyoung out of the picture. How it would wear on Sunny. How maybe those golden memories in her mind would only be reinforced by their distance. And the idea of her turning on Mark in favor of Jinyoung shook him to his core. “Then what do I do?”

“I don’t know,” Youngjae shrugged.

“God,” Mark groaned, hand rubbing over his face roughly as he spoke nearly to himself. “Why did I have to complicate everything? I’m such an idiot.”

Youngjae grabbed his wrist, pulling it away. “You’re not an idiot,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You made a gamble. It didn’t work out. You’re human.”

Mark looked at him, seeing the small smile on his lips. Not sure how to interpret it. He felt the way Youngjae hadn’t let go of his wrist. His hand was so warm that it had Mark’s eyes casting down again, back on those loose buttons. He smirked, “Don’t say that like it brings you joy.” 

Youngjae giggled, “It doesn’t.”

Mark trailed his eyes back up, raising his brows. “You sure?”

Youngjae licked his lips. “I always wanted the best for you two. The best for Sunny,” he said. “And I’m genuinely sorry it didn’t work out.”

Mark watched his mouth go slick where he licked it, shining in the lights of the parking lot. He sighed, letting his shoulders drop, “Maybe this is the universe telling me that I really was meant to be single.”

Youngjae’s fingers traveled down, grabbing for Mark’s hand and holding it. “Don’t sell yourself short,” he smiled. “You made a pretty decent almost boyfriend.”

Mark felt the warmth of his fingers. It had been too long since he’d felt someone’s warmth like that. “We weren’t so bad together, right?” he huffed. “We had fun.”

Youngjae nodded. “We did,” he smiled.

Mark didn’t let himself think twice as he intertwined their fingers. His other hand reaching up to grab Youngjae around the back of his neck, drawing him in closer. Watching those shiny lips fall just within reach of-

“Mark,” Youngjae said, pulling back. His smile gone. His eyes serious. “What are you doing?”

Mark stilled, hand falling away. “What do you mean?”

Youngjae pulled his hand away from Mark’s, taking a full step back. His face twisted up, filling with disgust. “Don’t do that,” he shook his head.

Mark felt the panic rise in his chest. “Do what?”

Youngjae kept shaking his head. “Don’t come onto me like you want me to fuck the sad out of you.”

Mark blinked. “You don’t want-” he stopped, losing his words. “Is that not-”

“No,” Youngjae said firmly. “God. I was just being nice.”

Mark’s mouth fell open, stuttering out his words, “I-I’m so sorry.” He hissed, closing his eyes for a moment. “You’re right. I totally misread that. Just-” he held up his hands, “Just forget I did that, okay?”

Youngjae’s disgust fell away, something more akin to that pity back in his bright eyes. “It’s fine, Mark,” he said, softly. “I-” he hesitated. “Good luck with everything. Drive safe.”

Mark watched him turn away, walking toward his own car across the parking lot. He unlocked his car, getting into the driver’s seat and leaning his head against the steering wheel. Beating it a couple times and whispering, “Stupid stupid stupid.”

\---

The weekend came, Sunny dragged Mark into the kitchen. “Dad,” she groaned, pulling his hand. “Come on. You said you’d help me.”

“I’m coming,” Mark laughed, letting himself be pulled and taking a seat at the table. “What do you need me to do?”

Sunny stood in front of him, shoving a packet of papers into his hands. “Sit here while I go over my lines,” she said. “Be the other characters.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, flipping through the script. “Where should I start?”

Sunny leaned over his shoulder, pointing at the page. “Here, start here. With the bird’s line.” She retook her spot, standing in front of him.

Mark cleared his throat. “We don’t have a home,” he read. “Can we stay with you?”

“Hmm,” Sunny held a finger to her lips, mock thinking. She shrugged. “I suppose that’s okay. Come on in!” she waved.

Mark smiled, “You aren’t going to do a big, deep lumberjack voice?”

Sunny’s shoulders fell, breaking character. “Lumberjacks can be girls, too, Dad,” she whined.

Mark laughed. “You’re right,” he said. “I’ll examine my personal biases.” He looked back down to the script. “What’s for breakfast?”

Sunny put her hands to her hips. “Every morning I have a big stack of maple-”

The doorbell rang.

“Hold on a second,” Mark stopped her, getting up.

Sunny groaned. “Come on, Dad!”

“Just a second,” he rolled his eyes. “It’s probably just a package. I’ll be right back.”

Mark went to the door, opening it, stopping immediately.

He was standing there. On Mark’s doorstep. Crisp dress pants and a button down folded up his forearms. His hair neatly done and his eyes turning up toward him. So brown and big and round. 

Mark felt the air be pulled from his lungs. Everything in him going rigid enough to shatter. His pulse going immediately frantic. His hand on the doorframe tightening up.

Jinyoung’s mouth fell open just to take in a breath, widen his chest. Brown eyes glimmering and lashes fluttering when he blinked. His pretty mouth bowing in the middle, curving up just a fraction at the corners into a small smile. Holding Mark’s eyes with that curious, quiet intensity that only he could.

Mark felt the image of him slip through the cracks of his memory, filling in the fuzzy spaces. The ones he’d worn over at night when he cried himself to sleep, trying to will himself to forget.

Jinyoung’s tongue worked over his lips for just a moment. Long enough for Mark to catch it. He smiled. “Hey,” he said, voice so warm and close that Mark felt like the space between them was negligible, that they might have been laying up in bed together taking turns drawing their faces close enough to kiss.

Mark blinked, everything feeling so close and so strong that he nearly had to take a step back. He looked at Jinyoung’s clothes, his hair, everything. Not seeing the Jinyoung he had asked for on his most desperate nights. Not the one in sweatpants and tshirts. With messy hair and morning stubble, making coffee in his kitchen. This wasn’t his Jinyoung. Because his Jinyoung had never existed.

He felt his hand on the doorframe tighten even more, this time for a completely different reason.

Jinyoung kept looking at him. That blatant optimism splashed across his features.

But Mark could no longer read it as such. He only saw that optimism as wicked manipulation. To draw Mark’s eyes away, to not have him look too hard, too long at all the glaring warnings that didn’t add up. All the signs that had tried so hard to convince Mark to not pursue him. And he hadn’t listened.

But he would now.

He stepped back, slamming the door shut and locking it before turning around for the kitchen.

“Alright,” he breathed, taking his seat at the table. Picking the script again. “One more time. From the top.”

Sunny blinked up at him. “Who was that?” she asked.

Mark shook his head, not meeting her eyes.

“No one.”


	17. Seventeen.

The week passed and Mark tried not to think about Jinyoung on his doorstep. Jinyoung with the door slammed in his face. Jinyoung taking an afternoon flight home just hours after he landed. He tried not to feel an ounce of sympathy for him, but even then, it was hard not to think about his glimmering brown eyes and his warm voice and his hopeful expression. Things that had once felt like Mark couldn’t live without but now he felt sick every time he thought about them. Because they were just reminders of his naivety, his vulnerability.

When Mark came into the auditorium to pick the kids up from play practice, Youngjae was just wrapping up.

“And everyone, make sure you have your costumes ready for the dress rehearsal next week!” he called out to the group. “We are going to want to practice with them to make sure we can do the best job for our show coming up, okay?”

The kids nodded eagerly, staring up at him with eager expressions.

“Okay,” he clapped. “All done for today then! Everyone pack up backpacks!”

The children scattered and Youngjae’s shoulders fell with relief as he jumped down off the stage, going for his own bag in the front row.

“Hey,” Mark called, coming up to him. “How’s practice going?”

Youngjae looked up at him with a passing glance. “It's going well,” he smiled, putting his things together. “I think it’s going to be a hit.”

“Sunny doing okay?”

“Oh, she’s doing great,” Youngjae threw his bag over his shoulder. “She’ll be ready for her SAG card after this.”

Mark smiled, “Yeah, I don’t think the world is ready for that.”

“Probably not,” Youngjae laughed. “Hell, if it was South Korea right now, she’d probably be admitting to the public that she's been dating some idol for the past year.”

Mark stared at him, face tightening with confusion.

Youngjae looked back at him. “You know,” he shrugged. “The stuff happening over there right now. The reveals.”

“What are you talking about?” Mark asked. “What stuff?”

Youngjae’s brightness dimmed. He shook his head. “Never mind,” he said. “It’s just a joke, Mark.”

“Mr. Choi!” Yugyeom shouted, running up with Bambam close behind. “My Appa and I are almost done with the praying mantis costume!”

“Oh, awesome!” Youngjae smiled. “I can’t wait to see it next week.”

“I’m going to practice my roar!” Bambam growled, hands going up into claws.

“I don’t think porcupines roar, Bambam,” Youngjae offered, ruffling the boy’s hair. “But, I appreciate the enthusiasm.”

“Boys,” Mark called. “Where is Sunny?”

“I’m right here!” she shouted from behind him.

“There you are,” he sighed. “Come on. Let’s head out.”

“Good work today, all of you,” Youngjae cheered. “High fives!” he gave all three of them one. “I’ll see you all in class tomorrow?”

“Yup!” they smiled.

“Okay, everyone,” Mark waved. “Say ‘Bye, Mr. Choi!’”

“Bye, Mr. Choi!”

Mark drove the boys home first, walking them up to the front door. As soon as they let themselves in, Jaebeom was sliding into the foyer.

“Hey,” the man panted, seemingly rushed and out of breath. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Mark raised a brow. “Just making sure they got in okay.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jaebeom nodded. “No, it’s okay. They’re okay.”

Mark looked at him, seeing the awkwardness in his stance. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Jaebeom shook his head. “Thanks for getting them as always.”

“Of course,” Mark said, distrustful but moving on. “Hey. I was wondering. Do you know about what’s happening? In Korea?”

It seemed to be Jaebeom’s turn to look confused. “What do you mean?” 

“I don’t know,” Mark shrugged. “Youngjae mentioned something about it.” 

Jaebeom shook his head, “I haven’t really been keeping up with things there. What did he say?”

And Mark suddenly felt awkward for being the one who was interested. Because why would he even care what was going on in Korea? He sighed. “It’s nothing,” he waved him away. “I’m sure it’s nothing.” He motioned toward the door. “Sunny and I should head home.”

“Yeah, totally,” Jaebeom agreed. “Oh,” he perked up. “Will you be at the soccer game this weekend? It’s the last one of the season. Jackson is really excited about it.”

“Yeah,” Mark nodded, still staring at him strangely. “I’ll see you all there.”

\---

Mark nearly made it the whole week without his curiosities getting the best of him. He spent his long days, trying not to think about it. Trying to not look too closely at headlines or indulge himself with a quick internet search. Because he knew it had nothing to do with him. But on Friday, he found himself alone at home with little work to distract him and an increasing number of questions that he couldn’t avoid answering anymore.

He searched something benign, but as soon as he did, a cascade of articles were coming up. He closed his eyes, promising himself that he’d just read the first one and then get on with his day. He opened, looking at the first headline.

_Kang Sujin Marriage Newest in Long Line of Korean #RevealtheReal Statements_

He blinked, reading the headline again. Sujin? The actress in Jinyoung’s movie? He clicked into the article, starting to read.

_On Thursday, the lead actress’ entertainment company revealed in a personal statement to fans that Kang has been “happily married” for the past three years to an anonymous doctor. The statement went on to mirror similar sentiments of other #RevealtheReal statements stating that “now felt like the right time to bring these truths to light as the heavy criticism on those in the Korean entertainment industry for their personal relationships is no longer in line with modern ideals._

_Of course, Kang is just the newest in a long line of these types of celebrity personal life reveals that have been so prevalent that fans have created a hashtag to participate in the discourse on Korean social media platforms. The statements have been met with both support and criticism, neither of which seems to be slowing down the number of new celebrities choosing to step out each day. As of today, nearly forty celebrities have come out in the past three weeks to disclose intimate details of their personal lives including private relationships, spouses, children, medical disabilities, or mental health struggles. And each day, the list continues to grow._

_Below, you can find a complete, up to date list of all the celebrities who have spoken out._

Mark blinked, mouth hanging open in quiet shock as he scrolled down, seeing the list that kept going and going. Names, upon names, upon names. He sat back in his chair, eyes fixed on the screen. Not really understanding what it meant. 

And though he felt like one article would suffice, it only brought on more questions. And with that, he deep dived into an afternoon of binge reading.

\---

The weekend came as well as the last soccer game of the season. It was another hot day and Mark and Jaebeom watched from the sideline as the players ran up and down the field, trying to break the tied score they’d been maintaining since their last snack break. Yugyeom, who had just gotten his cast off, was sitting at their feet, hyper-focused on the ladybug crawling over his arm. The boy gave a sneeze, causing the ladybug to fly away. He looked over to Milo sitting beside him. “Milo,” he groaned. “Why did you make me sneeze?”

Milo didn’t seem to care as he panted happily, sitting himself even closer to Yugyeom who sneezed again before succumbing to petting the puppy.

Mark looked over at Jaebeom who was intently watching Bambam on the field. He cleared his throat. “Hey,” he spoke up. “Can I talk to you?”

Jaebeom looked over at him, something nervous in his eyes. “Yeah,” he nodded “What’s up?”

Mark looked back to the field, feeling the itch of embarrassment between his shoulder blades. “So,” he started, biting his lips. “You remember that thing that Youngjae said about current events in Korea?”

Jaebeom blinked, nodding. “Yeah.”

“Well,” Mark fidgeted with Milo’s leash in his hand. “I looked into it a bit more.”

“Oh,” Jaebeom sat up straighter. “What did you find?”

Mark’s face twisted together. “It sounds like celebrities are coming forward with the truths about their private lives,” he said. “Who they are dating, who they are married to, their families, children. And even more stuff than that. Pretty much anything that they would have kept secret before.”

Jaebeom’s brows furrowed. “How many celebrities?”

“In the past month?” Mark shrugged, “Nearly fifty.”

“Fifty?” Jaebeom’s brows went up in surprise. He was quiet for a moment, thinking, “Not anyone you know, right?” 

“Kang Sujin? you know her?” Mark asked.

Jaebeom looked taken aback. “Isn’t she the actress in-” 

“Yeah,” Mark cut him off, already knowing where he was going with it. “She’s married. Been married for three years.” He thought for a moment. “And that Jihyun guy? From that stupid party I was at? He has two kids from two prior relationships. Doesn’t have custody of them.”

Jaebeom was quiet for a moment. “But nothing about…” his words trailed off.

“No,” Mark muttered. “Nothing about him.”

“Sounds like a PR nightmare,” Jaebeom scoffed, looking back towards the field. “I’m sure they are losing their sponsorships and endorsements.”

“Actually,” Mark said. “They aren’t.”

Jaebeom looked over again, confused. “Why is that?” 

“They are all coming out at once. So, they can’t be singled out,” Mark said, looking out and watching Sunny attempt a goal, but accidentally kick it out of bounds. Her shoulders falling in disappointment. “It really feels like they are trying to cause a shift in the industry. In the culture.”

Jaebeom huffed, “I mean lord knows they’ve needed one for a long time.”

Mark narrowed his eyes, getting lost in a thought that he couldn’t hold back. “It just seems so organized,” he said. “No one has spoken up and admitted any connection to the other stars coming out. But it has to be, right?”

“You know how things are there,” Jaebeom shook his head. “A few big names start doing it and suddenly, it's en vogue.” 

“But what does that mean?” Mark asked, nearly to himself. “Will it just be a trend? Or will it be a permanent shift?”

Jaebeom shrugged, “Could go either way I assume.” 

Mark sat there, staring at the field but too lost in the thoughts and questions he couldn’t put away.

Jaebeom leaned towards him, “You seem invested.”

“I’m just-” Mark started. “You don’t think-” he looked over, seeing Jaebeom’s expectant eyes staring back. He sighed. “Nevermind,” he muttered, looking back toward the field.

“You’d have to ask him,” Jaebeom said. “If you want to know.”

Mark pursed his lips, not satisfied with the way Jaebeom so easily read what he was thinking. “I’m afraid I missed my chance,” he said, readying himself to explain what happened on his doorstep.

“Maybe not,” Jaebeom said, so softly that Mark barely heard it.

Mark whipped his head towards him, brows furrowing.

Jaebeom looked nervous. “So,” he said. “I _might_ know where he is.”

Mark’s stomach churned with sudden nerves. He narrowed eyes, “If you say your house-”

“I mean,” Jaebeom shrugged. “It’s Jackson’s house, too.”

Mark scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re such a traitor, Jaebeom,” he said, bitterly, crossing his arms over his chest. “I should have known you’d pull something like this.”

“Hey,” Jaebeom glared back. “He’s our friend, too, you know?”

Mark’s eyes flashed down to Yugyeom, watching the boy stretch out Milo’s ears with a giggle. “What about the boys?” he murmured. “Have they told Sunny?”

“No,” Jaebeom shook his head, speaking soft enough to not draw Yugyeom’s attention. “We told them it’s a surprise for her birthday and they can’t ruin it.”

“Jaebeom-” Mark groaned. He looked back towards the field, feeling a low grade frustration peak inside him. “How long have you been stowing him away?”

“Since you slammed a door in his face and he walked to our house.”

“He’s such an idiot,” Mark hissed, rubbing his face.

“He was just saying hello,” Jaebeom said. “We offered for him to stay.”

“We?” Mark looked over at him, eyes going wide. “Jackson, too?”

“Trust me,” Jaebeom huffed. “I was as surprised as you are.”

Mark sat in silence for a moment, stewing in the nervous turning of his stomach. The caustic annoyance biting through his tone. “Why’s he here?” he asked. “What does he want?”

“You know what he wants,” Jaebeom urged, softly. “To clear the air.”

Mark shook his head, “I’m not talking to him.”

“Come on, Mark,” Jaebeom sighed. “Don’t tell me you aren’t curious.”

And it was hard for him to say he wasn’t. “He’s just here because he wants Sunny back,” he assured both Jaebeom and himself. “We all know it.”

“What if he wants both of you back?”

Mark looked over at him, mouth falling open, but before the words could come out, a shadow came across his field of vision. He looked up at a man wearing a bright yellow jersey with a whistle strung around his neck. It was the referee from the game.

“Hey,” the man smiled, painfully, wiping the sweat off his hairline. “I hate to ask you both this but do you mind sparing a bottle of water? It’s a scorcher today.”

Mark blinked. “Oh, sure,” he nodded, desperate to leave the conversation with Jaebeom. “Keep watch of the game. We’ll bring it to you.”

“Thanks,” he nodded, jogging back to his spot on the sideline.

Mark got up, not giving Jaebeom so much as a glance as he grabbed a cold water from the cooler. “Here you go, Ref.”

The man looked over, sighing with relief. “Thanks,” he smiled, accepting it. He twisted it open, taking a generous swig as he kept watching the kids.

Mark felt Jaebeom’s eyes on them, waiting for him to come back and finish their talk. “You must be dying,” he sputtered, looking out towards the field. “Especially trying to herd these guys.”

“Seriously,” he huffed. “I don’t know where they find the energy.”

“Well,” Mark shrugged. “You’re either a saint or a masochist to volunteer for this.”

The man laughed, drawing his eyes away from the field to look at him. “I have a niece in the league and I used to play in college so I figured I might as well try it.”

“I see,” Mark nodded. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Where’d you go to school?”

“UCLA.”

“Oh, no way,” he laughed. “So did I.” He stopped himself. “I’m Mark by the way,” he said, offering his hand.

“Noah,” he shook it with a smile, looking back to the field. “So, which one is yours?”

“Oh, I don’t have a kid,” Mark shook his head. “I’m just trying to see which one I want to offer candy to later.”

Noah looked over at him, face going blank.

Mark grinned. “I’m just kidding,” he laughed.

Noah's smile broke, giggling. “You’re laughing,” he smiled. “But little do you know there’s a whole section of the volunteer handbook on stranger danger.”

“No stranger here,” Mark said. He pointed out to the field, “She’s mine.” But when his eyes met Sunny, she was stopped, staring back at him. Her eyes big and round.

“Oh, number ninety three?” Noah perked up. “She’s got a mean slide.”

Mark blinked, staring back at her. His eyebrows creasing as he tried to read her expressionless face. “Yeah,” he breathed, distracted. “She does.”

Sunny turned, marching off. Not back towards the ball or the action at all, but off the field, towards the other side of the park.

Mark felt the surge of panic. “I-I’m sorry,” he stuttered, rushing. “I gotta-” he looked back at Noah and then towards Sunny, watching her stomp further away. “Sorry,” he sighed as he started to dash across the field after her.

He kept running, catching up to her under the shade of a tree. “Sunny,” he called. “Where are you going?”

“Far away,” she said, not turning back towards him.

“From what?”

“You!” she snapped.

“Why?” he asked, not getting a reply as Sunny just kept going. He reached out, grabbing her arm. “Hey,” he barked, twisting her to face him. “What is wrong with you? You can’t just storm off the field during your-”

She yanked her arm away, baring her teeth. “What were you doing?” she seethed.

Mark stopped, taken aback. “I was talking with the referee.”

Sunny sighed, her face crumbling. “You can’t do that!”

“What do you mean?” Mark’s voice went up. “I was being nice. I was giving him a bottle of water.” 

Sunny growled, turning around and trying to walk away.

“Come back here,” he muttered, grabbing her again and drawing her closer.

“Stop!” she yelled. “Let me go!”

“Sunny,” he said, quieter, calmer, trying to get her to calm down.

She fought him, trying to pull away. “You don’t get to do that,” she choked around the words, face turning red with distress. “You don’t get to act like he was never even here.”

“Who?” Mark asked, holding his grip on her strong as he squatted down to meet her eyes.

She looked back at him, eyes watering. “Jinyoung!” she screamed. “Already you are trying to get a new boyfriend and-”

“Sunny,” Mark stopped her. He sighed. “I’m not trying to get a new boyfriend.”

She stilled, face softening, “You’re not?”

“Of course not,” he shook his head. “Don’t you already think I have my heart full with you?”

She blinked back that gloss in her eyes. “You mean hands full?”

“No,” Mark smiled, reaching up to push a piece of hair from her face. “I mean heart full. Cause I love you so much. And I don’t need a boyfriend when I have the best daughter in the world.” 

She looked at him, mouth downturned and eyes watering all over again.

Mark reached up, touching her cheek. “Baby. What’s wrong?” he soothed.

Her shoulders shook for a moment before she collapsed into Mark, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face into his shirt. “I miss him,” she said, body trembling as her little lungs gave a hollow sob.

Mark could feel her tears soaking through to his skin. He sighed, putting his arms around her and rubbing her back. “I know,” he soothed. “I know. I’m sorry.”

She pulled back, face red and wet with tears when she looked up at him. “Can you fix it, Dad?” she asked, voice pleading. “Please. Whatever happened? Can you make it better?”

Mark looked at her, stomach twisting at the look of anguish on her face. Seeing Jinyoung’s features and thinking back to the image of the man standing on his doorstep just days ago. The small smile on his face so genuine-looking that it was almost like they had never fought, never broke up. And Mark had thought back to that smile too many times over the past few days, trying to understand it, but he still didn’t. Even now. Especially now, seeing his daughter’s face an unequivocally opposite expression. 

“Sunny,” he breathed. 

Behind them, back at the field, the crowd went wild. Screaming and hollering as the referee blew the airhorn. Mark looked back, seeing the parents and children descend on the field as the game ended. He looked back at his daughter. “We should go back,” he said. “Celebrate with your friends.”

Sunny stared at him, sniffling and wiping the tears from her eyes. Looking like she might protest again before her shoulders fell, surrendering. She nodded. “Okay.”

Mark took her hand, both of them slowly making their way back towards the crowd without saying a word to each other. But Mark could feel the way Sunny was squeezing his hand, like she was trying desperately to ground herself, keep in all the things she was trying not to feel. And Mark felt awful for forcing those feelings away. For not having the right responses to make her feel secure, safe, heard.

When they walked up, Jackson was running around the field balancing a giggling Bambam on his shoulders. Yugyeom was the first to greet Mark and Sunny. “Did you guys see it?” he gasped, wide eyed. “Bambam scored the winning point!”

Jaebeom appeared at Mark’s side, leaning into his ear. “The other team kicked the ball and it ricocheted off his face into the goal,” he murmured.

Mark looked up to Bam on Jackson’s shoulders, noting the red hue across half his face from where the ball had hit. He tried his best to put away Sunny’s words, forcing a smile that looked more like a wince. “Congratulations, Bam!” he said. “What a great way to end the season.” 

“Appa,” Yugyeom called to Jaebeom. “Can we celebrate at our house?”

Jaebeom looked down at him, blinking. “Uh,” he cleared his throat. “Our place is a mess right now. Why don’t you pick a yummy restaurant we can go to?”

And Mark immediately knew why and it only made his chest give a dull ache. To know who was at Jaebeom’s house, the same person everyone was hiding from Sunny. The one she wanted most right now.

“Sunny,” Mark said. “Why don’t you help Yugyeom and Bambam pick up cones on the field?”

She looked up at him, face blank. “Fine,” she sighed. “Come on, Yugyeom.”

Mark watched them run off, before turning to Jaebeom. But as soon as he did, he saw that his friend was already looking at him, something wordless in his eyes.

Mark sighed. “I’ll come over tomorrow.”

\---

The next day, Mark pulled up into Jackson and Jaebeom’s driveway, killing the engine and sitting there for a long moment. He wasn’t ready. He knew that much. He had spent the evening before trying not to think about it, because every time he did, he’d just find himself rushing to anger. Thinking of every bone he had to pick with Jinyoung. And as soon as he did, he’d be unconsciously trying to talk himself out of this whole interaction. But internally, he knew this had to happen. If anything, just to clear his mind and be able to give Sunny the answers she needed about what was next for them, about how they both were going to move on from this nightmare. Because the ambiguity was killing both of them.

Mark took a final deep breath, getting out of the car and slowly coming up to the front door. He rang the doorbell, waiting a few moments before Jackson opened the door.

Jackson looked at him, eyes rounder than usual. He leaned into the doorway. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Where’s Sunny?”

“Grandma’s house.”

“Are you…” Jackson’s words trailed off. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Mark stood on heavy feet, feeling weighed to that doorstep. “It doesn’t matter what I want,” he said.

Jackson’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “Just know,” he said, taking his time. “We want what’s best for you.” He paused. “I want what’s best for you,” he corrected. “No matter what that is.”

Mark watched him, brows creasing together. “What does that-”

Jaebeom’s footsteps were quick as he came up behind his husband. “Hey,” he said, slightly more cheery. “Hey, come in.” He pulled the door open wider, letting Mark through. “Um,” he looked nervous, tucking his hair behind his ears. “We have the boys in their room. And we have him in the dining room. We shut all the doors in there. So you both could have some privacy in there.”

Mark felt the anxious twist of his stomach, realizing this was really happening. He was really here. They were really going to talk.

“Hey,” Jaebeom grabbed his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “We are going to be sitting out here in the living room. And if anything…,” his mouth twisted together. “Just… we are here. If you need a mediator.”

“It’s fine, Jaebeom,” Mark shook his head, letting his friend’s hand fall away. “No point in escalating things anymore. It’s already over.”

Jaebeom and Jackson both looked at him, wide-eyed and quiet.

“Okay,” Jaebeom finally nodded. “Well, good luck in there.”

“Thanks,” Mark mumbled, staring at the doors of the dining room. He approached them with cautious steps, reaching for the handle. He had the fleeting desire to run as far and as fast as he could, but he knew the only place he had to go was back into the arms of his daughter, who was desperately wanting answers. And he knew he owed it to her to get them, even if he didn’t want them himself. So, he pulled the door open.

Jinyoung was sitting at a table in the middle of the room, his hands folded together. And when he heard the door, he looked up. Seeing Mark, he stood quickly, nearly knocking his chair over in the process. He stood there, frozen and staring. His eyes looked sad, pained. Nothing like the way he’d showed up on Mark’s doorsteps two weeks ago.

Mark felt stiff, freezing in the doorway as he took in the sight of him. The afternoon light was coming in through the drawn blinds, painting him in a soft glow. He was wearing jeans and a white t-shirt and looking undoubtedly less put together than he had been on Mark’s doorstep. And it made it that much harder because now, Jinyoung looked so much more like that idyllic California version of himself. And Mark had the momentary curiosity to know why. Was it a natural consequence of the time he’d spent cooped up in Jackson and Jaebeom’s house? Or was it something more sinister? Like he was preying on Mark’s nostalgia. Or was it something else entirely? 

Mark lowered his eyes. “Sit down, Jinyoung,” he said, as he came in, shutting the door behind him. 

Jinyong hesitated a moment before sinking down into his chair.

Mark tried to keep his eyes averted as he took the seat across from him, but even subconsciously, there was the lingering urge to look up into his face. To try and understand him. And even in his small glances, he could see the wide-eyed nervousness in Jinyoung’s face. He looked away again, focusing instead on the man’s fingers wearing together against the table.

The silence stretched out for too long a moment, before Jinyoung must have felt crushed under its weight. Finding his voice. “I’m sorry I’m late,” he said. “I… had some things I needed to deal with back home.”

Mark scoffed lightly, sitting back in his chair. “How convenient,” he muttered.

Jinyoung stared back at him. Eyes guilty and anxious. Not speaking again, like he was scared of saying the wrong thing.

Mark finally sighed. He shook his head, “I don’t want to do this.”

“Why?” Jinyoung asked, like he knew it was obvious but he wanted to know the reason.

“Because I shouldn’t have to,” Mark snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t owe you anything.”

Jinyoung went quiet, shrinking to nothing under Mark’s glare. “You don’t owe me anything,” he said softly. “But I owe you something.”

“Like what?” Mark’s face twisted up.

“An apology.”

The silence stretched again, something more tense in it this time as they stared back at each other. More charged as Mark saw his eyes from this close, that pretty brown reflecting back the soft light until they looked even bigger. Saying too many things that Mark wasn’t ready to listen to.

Mark sighed, looking away again. “So,” he started. “Tell me then.”

“Tell you what?”

“Why you did it.”

“What part?”

“All of it,” Mark said, a little too sharp as his eyes flashed up at him again.

Jinyoung’s mouth made a thin line as he pressed it together in thought. His shoulders fell, “Tell me where to start, Mark.”

He felt the hot itch at his shoulders at the sound of his name, sounding so exasperated in Jinyoung’s mouth. Making his thoughts rush together for a moment and he had to actively sort through them, starting himself at the beginning. At the first time Jinyoung had shown up on his doorstep with nothing but insistence and a story. And all the mixed feelings that Mark hadn’t known how to cope with. The way his instinct had been to bite, even if it had been alongside something deeper. And how he wished more than anything that he’d listened to his gut. 

“Why did you come to California?” he asked. “Was Sunja even getting married? Or was that a lie as well?”

“She _did_ get married,” Jinyoung insisted. “And I _did_ send her a gift. But she didn’t send me anything back. She still won’t talk to me.”

“Why not?”

Jinyoung exhaled. “I think it’s just too painful,” he said, looking down into his hands. “It was my fault she had to give Sunny up. If it wasn’t for my career, maybe she could have raised her in Korea safely. I think she still resents me for that.”

Mark tried to imagine losing someone like that. Having them just disappear without a trace. Before realizing that was what he’d done when he left Korea. He felt the sinking of his stomach before physically tightening, trying to keep the feeling at bay. “Why did you come now?” he asked. “After six years, why now?”

Jinyoung looked up at him, eyes wide. “Can I be honest?”

Mark’s eyes narrowed, “Why wouldn’t you be?”

“Because I’m scared that you’re waiting for an opportunity to execute me.”

Mark bit into his cheek. Tightened his arms over his chest. Restraining himself. “Speak, Jinyoung.”

Jinyoung leaned his elbows onto the table, fingers folding together against his lips. Collecting himself with one big breath. “When I found out about her,” he started, rubbing his hands together. “My career was just taking off. I was getting cast in my first major roles, getting my first awards. Everything was just beginning. But I knew the industry. I knew that one major scandal was all it took to ruin a newcomer’s career. So that was the choice. Pursuing her or pursuing my career.”

Mark huffed, looking away dismissively. “And so you chose,” he shrugged.

Jinyoung watched him, his eyes sad. “There were so many unknowns, Mark,” he pleaded. “I didn’t know who adopted her, what they would think of me. I kept imagining myself dropping everything to go to California and then being shut out by her family. Left with nothing. I was young and totally unprepared. And that was a risk I wasn’t willing to take.”

Mark knew that Jinyoung was trying to get him to see the logic in his decision, but the hurt overwhelmed any reason, any objectivity. Keeping his fixated stare on Jinyoung’s face hard and unyielding. 

Jinyoung’s shoulders fell, like he could see that he wasn’t garnering any sympathy. Nevertheless, he kept going, “After that, I threw myself into my work. Took too many projects, didn’t give myself breaks. I thought that maybe it could serve as a distraction. But that didn’t work and pretty soon, I was resenting my work, the industry, myself.” He shook his head, “But thinking like that wasn’t sustainable. I _had_ to change the narrative. I had to start seeing my career as a way I could provide for her one day. I had to start thinking that the more I worked, the more money I saved, the sooner I could step away to come find her.”

Mark hadn’t thought of it like that. That Jinyoung was maintaining his career on Sunny’s behalf. Letting her control parts of his life even before he’d met her. He blinked, voice quiet when he spoke his realization, “That’s why your apartment was so modest.”

Jinyoung looked at him, something hopeful glimmering in his eyes. He shook his head. “There was no need to have something lavish for myself,” he said. “I wanted to save that money for her.”

Mark's chest widened with a breath. He rushed to ask another question, anything to keep himself from dwelling too long on glimmer in Jinyoung’s eyes. “So, you didn’t tell anyone?”

“No,” Jinyoung shook his head. “I was too ashamed.”

Mark raised his brows, “Ashamed of her?”

“Ashamed I wasn’t there for her,” he corrected. “I couldn’t even bear the idea of having a real relationship because I knew I would have to tell them.” He winced, as if reliving a bad memory, “So instead, I slept around. And yeah, it was probably stupid but I was alone. And you’ll do stupid things when you’re alone.” 

Mark licked his lips, ready to bite back. To chastise him. But as soon as he loaded his words, they died on his tongue at the thought of Youngjae. At the thought of what happened in the parking lot at their last meeting. And he assumed maybe he himself had been alone, maybe he had done something stupid.

Jinyoung didn’t seem to notice this play out across his face, too lost in his own thoughts as he continued, “If I told my family, they wouldn’t understand why I wasn’t there for her. And if I told someone like Bit, someone in the industry, they would tell me to never pursue seeing her. To enjoy my life and my career and forget about her. So, no one could know.”

Mark shook his head. “But that doesn’t answer the question,” he said. “Why did you come now? After so long.”

Jinyoung thought for a long moment, before shaking his head. “I don’t know,” he said, making it sound like an omission of guilt. “I wish I had something to tell you. Some turning point. Like I saw a father and daughter in the park or… I don’t know, some near death experience,” he huffed a painful wisp of breath from his chest. “But I don’t. I just woke up one morning and I couldn’t take it anymore. Years of not knowing. Of questioning. What if after what if. I just couldn’t stand it any longer.” 

Mark stared at him, at the sad hint of smile pressed against his mouth. The way it went all the way up to his eyes. “The desire outweighed the fear,” he murmured.

Jinyoung’s smile faded to nothing. “Yeah,” he said, voice weak in his throat.

Mark drew his eyes away, uncrossing his arms and leaning them onto the table. Feeling competing heats paint his skin, each meaning something totally different. He felt the wrathful one sharpen his tone again. “But why did you lie?”

Jinyoung swallowed. “I wasn’t going to,” he said. “I showed up on your doorstep three times before you let me in. And the first two times, I wasn’t going to hide it. But by the third time, I was desperate. For anything.”

Mark thought back, remembering the desperation in his voice. Hearing it again now.

“It didn’t feel like a big lie when I said it,” he admitted. “Because at the time, I expected that maybe you’d let me see her once. Maybe we could strike up some kind of deal. Maybe you’d agree that I could travel here a few times a year. That was the absolute best case scenario.” He paused, shaking his head. His voice softer when he spoke again, “I didn’t expect to stay, live in your house, make friends, fall in love.” 

Mark managed to hold any reaction from his features, though it took everything he had.

“I never knew the lie would follow me as long as it did,” Jinyoung said. “And the longer time went on, the more scared I got.”

“Why?”

Jinyoung looked straight through him. “Because you were brutal,” he said, no hesitation in his voice. “You must know that.”

Mark went quiet. Thinking back to the way things were when it started. How quick he’d been to dismiss him. How easily they defaulted to not speaking whenever things got too complicated for Mark to talk about.

“You were so ready to throw me out for any little misstep,” Jinyoung said. “I was walking on eggshells. Waking up every morning and going to sleep every night wondering when your patience would run out and I’d be sent home,” his tone sharp. “I knew you knew it. Because you tried to apologize for it. Twice. But each time, you’d give me this false sense that things would be different. But how different would they be? Letting me take her places alone? Letting me teach her some Korean words? You were still the only one with any power. Still the one who showed no intent to ever tell her who I am.”

Mark’s insecurity crashed over him. Thinking of all of that displaced anger and pride that continued to wreck havoc no matter who it was aimed at. Wondering momentarily what Jinyoung had ever seen in him. “Yet, you told Jaebeom.”

“Yeah.” 

“Why?” 

“I don’t know,” Jinyoung shrugged. “We were just talking, that first time I met him. And you know how he is, how he looks at you. Like there’s nothing that would surprise him. Something about it just drew the words right out of me.”

“What did he say?” Mark asked. “When you told him.”

Jinyoung looked up at him, licking his lips. Hesisting around the words for a moment. “He told me not to tell you.” 

Mark furrowed his brows. “Why?” 

Jinyoungh sighed, staring up at the ceiling like he was trying to remember the words, “He said he knew you and that you wouldn’t look any deeper at me if I admitted it to you.” 

Mark felt the insecurity crash again, harder this time. “Do you think he was right?” 

Jinyoung looked back to him. “Do you?”

Mark went quiet again. Not willing to look deep enough to find an answer, afraid of the one he’d find. “You still should have told me,” he said firmly. “You should have told me from the start.”

“Of course, I should have,” Jinyoung agreed.

“But instead, you made me feel crazy,” Mark rushed. “Like I never even knew you. Like you were two different people.”

“Because I was.”

Mark stopped, confusion drawing his brows together.

Jinyoung’s eyes unfocused, like he was getting trapped somewhere else. “I had been so unhappy in Korea for so many years,” he said. “By the time I came here, I didn’t want to be that person anymore. The one who prioritized what came naturally instead of what was most important. So, I left that person in Korea along with my demanding career, my hollow personal life. Everything that had impeded me from becoming who I wanted to be. Someone who could be there for Sunny, who didn’t have a career in the public eye, who could hold down a real relationship, who could have friends that weren’t just shallow industry people.”

Mark sat forward, “Are you saying that’s not really you?”

“No,” Jinyoung shook his head, “It’s just.” He stopped, thinking. He sighed. “It’s more complicated than that,” he said. “I wanted to bury that person I was but I wasn’t willing to admit that I couldn’t. I should have told you about what my life had been like before I got here. Especially before Seoul. And I’m sorry for that.”

Mark’s face fell, everything in him deadening at the memory. Slumping back into his chair. Feeling the involuntary wettening of his throat, so thick that the words were hushed when he spoke. “We shouldn’t have gone to Seoul, Jinyoung.”

Jinyoung sat forward, eyes pleading. “I tried, Mark,” he said. “I really did. But you were so painfully unhappy on that trip. You wouldn’t talk to me about it. It felt like nothing I tried was helping. It all felt so hopeless.”

Mark looked away, unwillingly falling back to that place of hopelessness and feeling it all over again. The despair, the anger that had consumed him. The push and pull between it and the insecurity getting the best of him. “So, you gave up,” he scoffed, eyes blurring with glossiness. “Broke my rules.”

Jinyoung took him in with a glance, before averting his eyes. “It wasn’t my intention,” he said. “Before you came, I finally told my parents what was going on, why I was in California for so long. I told them everything. About Sunny and you and all of us. And of course, the first thing they wanted to do was meet you, meet Sunny,” he almost smiled, before it went stale again. “But that couldn’t happen. You had made that clear.” 

He bit at his lip. “So,” he breathed. “I invited them to the park. So they could at least _see_ both of you. Even if it was from afar, even if they didn’t meet you. It was something I could offer them that was more than just years of evading the truth.” He looked up at him. “But you didn’t come that day. And everything was already so awful.” His shoulders fell with a sigh. “I don’t know. Maybe by then I was just tired of always playing by your rules, following your decisions. Maybe I wanted to be the one to make a decision for once.”

Mark stared at him, blinking away the wetness in his eyes. “You didn’t hide it. You didn’t tell Sunny to keep quiet. She had a picture of them for god’s sake,” he scoffed. “I mean, were you trying to be found out?”

Jinyoung stared at him, thinking. “Maybe, I was,” he shrugged. “Maybe I wanted to make a point. However selfish and misguided that was.”

“What point did you need to make?”

“That I was more than just your boyfriend,” he said. “That I could be more.”

Mark shook his head. “I didn’t need you to be anything more,” he said, choking through the words. “You were already perfect to me. _Everything_ was so perfect-”

“Was it perfect for me?” Jinyoung cut him off.

Mark went silent. Seeing the anger in Jinyoung’s features. Just a fraction of what it had been in Seoul. But there was something sad about the way it was so much softer now, exasperated. Like maybe it was hopeless to be worked up about something that was already over, lost.

Jinyoung’s eyes drew down towards the table, watching as he started tracing over the grain of the wood with his finger. “I loved you, Mark,” he said, something apologetic in it. “And what we had was…” his voice trailed off, like he was searching for the right word. But he never seemed to find it. He swallowed. “When we fought, in Seoul, everything you said only confirmed my worst fears. That you never saw my potential to be a father to her. That you were never going to let me have that. Because you were too scared. That if you let me have that then those six years you spent doing everything for her would mean nothing. That she only had enough love to give one father.” He looked up at him, “But, that’s not true.”

Mark remembered Jinyoung’s words during that fight, the sharpened way in which he’d wielded them. “You knew that was what I was afraid of and you still went that low,” he accused. “You tried to dig as deep as you could to hurt me.”

Jinyoung’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t exactly pull your punches either, Mark.”

Mark felt himself crumble under the weight of remembering that he’d done exactly the same thing. Feeling the conflict between his own hurt and the hurt he’d inflicted. Suddenly unable to see any justifications for it, lost on why it even had to happen, how it got that far. And he had to ask, “Did you mean the things you said?”

“No,” Jinyoung said, no hesitation in it. Eyes going distant again, looking right through Mark. Voice going weak when he spoke, withering to nothing. “She’s your baby. You’re her dad. Not me. I was being stupid. I was angry and defensive and it shouldn’t have been that way. That’s not how I wanted to end this.” 

Mark felt the press of his heart in his chest. “You wanted to end this?” 

“Of course not,” Jinyoung said. He looked down into his hands. “But you were right. I’m still selfish. I’m still scared. I’m still not ready to be her father.”

Mark felt the weakness in Jinyoung’s throat as if it was his own. He tried to swallow it down, but it wouldn’t budge. “Jinyoung,” he said, eyes glossing over stronger this time. “Don’t just say it because-” 

“Mark,” he stopped him, looking up. Eyes more insistent than they’d been the whole conversation. “I’m saying it cause I can’t sit here and feel prideful about something that I was too scared to do. You are the one who took care of her, who raised her. And you’re doing a much better job than I could have ever done.” 

Mark blinked, the tears welling up. He tried to sniff them away, but it was useless. They just kept coming back stronger. “I-I,” he stuttered, choking around the words. “I thought you wanted to take her away.”

Jinyoung’s eyes filled with sympathy, brows creasing together in worry. He reached across the table, taking Mark’s hand. “I _never_ wanted to take her away from you,” he said, firmly. “Never. After six years here? With you? I couldn't just take her away and try to bring her up in a country she doesn't know. That's too cruel, for her and for you.” 

He squeezed Mark’s hand tighter, “ _You’re_ the one that she needs. The one she wants when she's scared or sad or sick. You’re the one who makes her feel safe and loved more than anyone else in the entire world. She may play with me. Laugh with me. But she cries with you. She confides in you. And that’s so much more important.” 

The tears spilled across Mark’s cheeks. Everything Jinyoung was saying feeling like he was lifting the heavy burdens that had been weighing on Mark’s chest. The ones that had been collecting there as Sunny and him had spent the last few weeks more at odds than ever before. And with that weight off his chest, he finally felt like he could just breathe. And not in the shallow, contrived way he’d been trying, an effort to pull himself together and act strong on Sunny’s behalf. But truly, breathing.

He covered his eyes with his hand as the quiet tears kept breaking down his cheeks, unwilling to let go of Jinyoung’s warm hand, feeling his thumb rub steady, comforting circles into his skin. He tried to wipe his eyes, clear his throat. He tried to speak. “I suppose it was kind of ironic,” he sniffed. “That, in the end, it wasn’t the fame that tore us apart. But instead, it was each other.” 

Jinyoung’s face was still creased with worry. “Though the fame didn’t help,” he murmured under his breath. His grip on Mark’s hand weakening. “It _always_ just makes it harder.”

Mark watched him. Watched the emptiness of his features as his thoughts went somewhere far. And innately, he felt himself draw Jinyoung’s hand closer, like he was trying to pull him out of whatever place he was going into.

Jinyoung blinked, returning. Jaw tightening for a moment, lips pursing. A lingered question in his eyes that wouldn’t leave.

“What?” Mark whispered. 

He bit his lips before speaking. “How is she?” he asked, voice soft and close.

“She’s...” Mark tried to find the words, but they just weren’t there. Because he knew he’d done the same thing to Sunny that he’d done with Jinyoung in the past. Avoiding talking about the things he didn’t know how to, dismissed her, lived under the false guise that time would heal all wounds. “I don’t know,” he admitted.

Jinyoung studied his face. “What did you tell her about all of this?”

Mark felt himself wince. “That we had a fight,” he said. “And we broke up.”

Jinyoung lay Mark’s hand flat against the table, watching as he traced the lines of his palm with his fingers, distracted. “Does she hate me?” he asked, under his breath.

Mark swallowed down the remnant of tears in his throat. “No,” he whispered, watching Jinyoung’s fingers as well. Feeling the warm caress of his touch, like some powerful medicine that he forgot worked as well as it did. He smiled, painfully, “If anything she hates me.”

Jinyoung looked up at him. “Do you hate me?” he whispered.

He felt closer now, his touch and his voice and the wide open curiosity of his features. So close. “Jinyoung,” he breathed.

Jinyoung drew Mark’s hand to his face, letting it lay against his cheek, cradle his face. 

His skin was so warm that all Mark could think about was Christmas morning. Holding Jinyoung’s face like this. As if remembering the path, he let his fingers graze down his jaw. Watching the man’s eyes go even rounder, as they searched Mark’s face. Exposed and vulnerable in a way that Mark so readily remembered.

Mark was too busy taking in the look in his eyes that he barely even noticed the way his thumb started to brush against Jinyoung’s mouth, the pretty upward curve of his lip. But once he did, he felt unable to stop it. Wondering if it would elicit the same soft whimper it had on Christmas morning.

Mark hissed at the thought, brows drawing together, pained. 

“What?” Jinyoung spoke, lips moving against his thumb.

Mark felt the soft brush everywhere, jumbling his thoughts. He let out a shaky breath. “This is why I didn’t want to talk to you.”

“Why?” Jinyoung whispered.

_Because I knew what it would do to me._

Jinyoung blinked up at him. “Do you believe me?”

“Yeah,” Mark swallowed, tears welling up again. “I believe you, Jinyoung.”

Jinyoung tilted his face into Mark’s touch, pulling his hand up and closing his eyes as he started to kiss his palm. Leaving soft presses of his lips against the skin. One after the other after the other. “What do you need from me?” he murmured. “How can I help?”

Mark watched him press those kisses into his skin, feeling them travel up his arm and warming him. Remembering exactly how they’d felt the first time Mark had kissed him. In his pool that night, when Jinyoung’s pull had become too strong to deny anymore. How Jinyoung’s kiss had quelled the dangerous mix of emotions that had been eating away at Mark. But like some magic spell, it had only worked for a few moments before those feelings rushed back in even stronger.

And though many months had passed, many more kisses as well, Mark couldn’t help but think that it was all the same. All of it. They both were still the same. Mark was still the dangerous mix of emotions that Jinyoung elicited from him. He was still angry and prideful and envious. Jinyoung was still magnetic and nearly impossible to deny with that quiet begging in his eyes. It was all the same.

And in that way, there was no guarantee that tumbling into Jinyoung again would be any different. Because what was different now? A few less lies? A few more belated apologies? A few more tears shed?

_It’s not enough to warrant a different outcome._

“I need you to go home,” Mark said, firmly. “To Korea.”

Jinyoung paused the press of his lips, opening his eyes and looking up at him. The question already so plain on his features that he didn’t need to voice it, but still he did. “Forever?”

Mark’s throat constricted, eyebrows knitting together. Everything going tight. “I don’t know yet.”

Jinyoung dropped Mark’s hand, letting it fall to the table. “I can’t see her?” he said, eyes growing increasingly anxious. “Say goodbye?”

Mark felt the twist in his chest. He drew his eyes away, shaking his head. “It’s not a good time.”

“I didn’t get to say goodbye,” Jinyoung protested. “In Seoul, I didn’t-” 

“I know,” Mark stopped him. “It didn’t have to be like that.” And in the moment, he hated that it was the closest thing to an apology he could manage.

Jinyoung stared at him, his anxious eyes going glossy. “B-but,” he stammered. “I miss her so much.”

Mark’s chest twisted tighter, constricting the breath in his lungs. “I know you do.”

“I miss you,” Jinyoung whispered, tears welling up “Just as much.”

Mark couldn’t breathe, but he kept his firm composure. “I know you do,” he repeated, staring back at him. “But is that enough?”

Jinyoung looked back at him. Eyes wet and cheeks tinting pink at the threat of tears. Something in him no longer as optimistic as he would have been in the past. But now, it was different. Hardened, realistic.

And all Mark could see was the same look Sunny had since she left Seoul. Since she too lost hope.

He took it in once more, before he looked away. “Go home, Jinyoung,” he said, getting up and pushing in his chair before going for the door. Not letting himself look back.

When he walked out of the dining room, Jackson and Jaebeom were sitting on the couch. They looked up at him, both sets of wide eyes begging too many questions.

Mark was done answering questions. He made his way to the front door, calling out to them with no emotion left in his voice.

“I’ll see you at the dress rehearsal.”


	18. Eighteen.

Mark felt the memory of his final words to Jinyoung following him for the next week, making all the air around him feel dense, so hard to breathe that his chest felt pained every time he felt himself falling back into an endless cycle of remembering. Replaying the look on Jinyoung’s face, laid bare for him. The touch of his hands, his mouth, just the same as they’d always felt. The sincerity in his words, his apologies, sinking so deep.

_“Go home, Jinyoung.”_

Even in remembering, the words felt cold, lifeless in his ears. Hollow and devoid of all of that warm sincerity that Jinyoung had willingly offered him.

It didn’t stop Mark from thinking of it more than he should. Eyes glazing when Sunny and him were doing homework or practicing lines or eating dinner. Until she’d be trying to ask him what he was thinking about, what was wrong.

“Nothing, baby,” he’d smile. Too tight, pained. “Daddy’s just tired.”

Days at home passed by too slowly, too quietly. All the life that had been drained from the house now more apparent than it had ever been. And of course, it made Mark’s fingers too easily click off of his work. Too easily scroll through that list of Korean celebrities outing their personal lives for the world to read. He would hold his breath as his eyes scanned for one specific name. Each time holding it a little longer as the list was still steadily growing with names by the day. But he never found the name he was looking for. And he didn’t know how to feel about that.

He’d lie awake at night, imagining Jinyoung joining the other celebrities. Releasing a statement. Saying he had a child from a past relationship. And Mark would dare to wonder if a passing mention of himself would even make the footnotes of a statement like that. If Jinyoung would go as far as defining Mark’s place in his life. As a boyfriend or a friend. A thing of the present or the past. As the adoptive father of his illegitimate child or something more. Or just _something_. Something less amorphous than the impossibly ambiguous reality they were both suffering through now. And though it scared Mark, he yearned for Jinyoung to publicly define what they had so that he wouldn’t have to.

But fate was neither kind nor cruel enough to give Mark anything but silence. So he stayed aloof and despondent for some sort of clarity that he couldn’t even put into words. 

The long days of play practice and the long nights of listening to Sunny read lines led up to the dress rehearsal. And the sight of Sunny in her jeans and boots and flannel and trapper hat, wielding a toy ax between her fiddling hands, was enough to bring a soft smile back to Mark’s face, even if it felt a little unfamiliar.

“Are you ready?” Mark said, walking up to the doors of the school auditorium.

Sunny bit at her lips. “I don’t know,” she said, making it sound like a confession.

Mark stopped. He kneeled down to her. “Why?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”

Her gaze fell to the floor, her shoulders drawing together.

Mark sighed. “Are you scared?” he soothed, slipping one of her braids over her shoulder.

She blinked up at him, mouth falling open. Hesitating for a moment. “Yeah,” she finally nodded.

“Sunny,” Mark smiled. “You’ve been practicing for weeks. You can say these lines in your sleep. In fact, I’m pretty sure I have heard you snoring them.”

Sunny rolled her eyes. “You have not,” she pouted.

“I’m kidding,” Mark giggled. “I’m just saying, you are _so_ ready for this.”

Sunny’s face went nervous, unsure.

“Hey,” Mark raised her chin to meet her eyes. “It’s going to be fine. You’re going to do great. I just know it.”

Her brown eyes blinked. “I-” she started, before biting her lip again.

Mark’s brows knit together. “What is it?” he whispered. “Tell me.”

She drew her chin away. “Nothing.” She stood back, looking up towards the door. “We should go in.”

Mark tried to read her sudden distance, but he couldn’t. And momentarily, he wondered if this was how it was going to be from now on. Sunny growing up and away from him. He sighed. “Okay,” he stood. “Let’s go.”

As soon as they got in, Bambam came running down the aisle towards them. The paper quills running along his neck and back bouncing with each step. “Sunny!” he shouted. “You’re here! Mr. Choi said fifteen more minutes until curtain call. I don’t know why we are calling the curtains but do you want to practice before we do?”

“We should,” she nodded, taking his hand and running off towards the stage steps.

“Mark!”

He turned, squinting his eyes towards the darkened back of the auditorium, seeing Jaebeom waving obnoxiously for him to come over.

Mark came up to them. “Are you guys ready for your first official viewing?”

“Viewing?” Jackson’s eyebrows shot up. “Negative, chief. Mr. Choi is shooing all the parents out of the room before they start. He said we’ll have to wait for the _premiere_ like everyone else.”

“Come on then,” Jaebeom beckoned towards the door. “I saw a snack machine out in the hallway that I had my eye on.”

Shortly after, Mark was leaning up against the machine watching as Jackson handed Jaebeom dollar bills from his wallet to smooth out with his hands.

“Bambam’s costume looks good,” Mark noted.

“You should see Yugyeom’s,” he huffed, trying to feed his dollar bill into the slot. “It belongs in a museum. If I have to hear one more time about the correct amount of femoral spines-”

“Oh, stop,” Jackson scoffed. “You loved every minute of making that demon suit. Especially when you left the mask in the fridge for me to find at two in the morning.”

Jaebeom laughed, looking over to Mark. “He woke up the whole house screaming,” he smiled, punching the numbers on the machine.

“Not funny,” Jackson huffed, leaning over his husband’s shoulder. “Why didn’t you get the peanuts?”

“Who gets the peanuts?” Jaebeom said, sounding affronted as he retrieved his chips from the bin and opened them up.

“I do,” Jackson glared. “Whatever. Let me get some,” he said, snaking his hand into the bag.

Jaebeom pulled away, “You have your own money.”

“Which I just gave you to buy chips,” he said. “Now hand them over, babe.”

Jaebeom reluctantly let him take some, before offering the bag to Mark.

Mark shook his head, adjusting himself against the machine.

“So,” Jaebeom said, crunching. “How did it go?”

“How did what go?” Mark asked.

“Last time we saw you,” Jaebeom said, eating the dust off his fingers. “You know...”

Mark turned his head away. “I’m sure you already know,” he folded his arms across his chest. “In fact, I’m positive you probably interrogated him as soon as I left.”

Jaebeom shrugged, “I’m asking you.”

Mark looked at him, feeling that same stare that Jinyoung had spoken about. The kind that just made him want to unravel. “I’m not going to say it again,” he shook his head. “You know what I told him.”

“Yeah,” Jackson quirked his brow. “We know.”

Mark looked between them. Seeing the openness of Jaebeom’s expression contrast the bitterness of Jackson’s. He sighed. “So,” he licked his lips. “Will you both be playing your usual roles in this?” He pointed to Jaebeom. “Traitor.” He pointed to Jackson. “Cynic.”

The couple exchanged glances, something unspoken and shared in their eyes. “Do you have a preference for who goes first?” Jaebeom asked.

“Jackson,” Mark decided, motioning towards him. “State your case. Tell me he’s trash.”

Jackson was quiet for a moment, uncharacteristically so, before he finally spoke up. “He’s a good guy, Mark.”

His eyes shot up at him, wide and surprised. He blinked. “You too?” he asked, taken aback. He pointed to Jaebeom. “What did he do to you?”

Jackson sighed. “You know he’s a good guy,” he shook his head. “You know he’s sorry. You know he’s been trying to fix it.”

“How?” Mark glared at him. “What has he even done?”

“He came here,” Jackson said, eyes widening. “He tried to set things right.”

Mark huffed. “That’s it?” he sneered. “Is the bar really that low?”

Jackson’s brows knit together, growing fierce “Mark,” he snapped. “He was the one-”

“Jackson,” Jaebeom grabbed his husband’s arm, stopping his words. His eyes holding something unspoken again.

Jackson took a deep breath. Calming himself before starting again. “You and Sunny are his world.”

Mark felt the slight sting of the words, the ones he didn’t want to hear. “No, his career is his world,” he corrected.

“Fuck his career,” Jackson quipped. “Stop using it as a cop out for being scared.”

Mark swallowed. “I’m not scared,” he lied.

“Bullshit,” Jackson huffed. “You know you are. You have been from the start.”

“Can confirm,” Jaebeom piped in, biting down on another crunch of chips.

Mark looked at them, appalled. “I was thinking about Sunny,” he argued. “I’m _still_ thinking about Sunny. Are either of you?”

“What does she want then?” Jackson countered. “Did _she_ advise you exile him?”

Mark’s retort fell apart in his mouth when it fell open. Remembering her pleas on the soccer field. How badly she wanted Jinyoung back, even when she was often trying to act strong. He felt himself shrink away. “She’s a kid,” Mark said, voice small. “She doesn’t understand-”

“She understands that she loves him,” Jackson’s eyes went rounder, sincere. “And she knows he made you happy.”

Mark looked at him, holding a breath too tight in his chest. Having to remind himself to let it go, to calm down. “If we break up again,” he said, softer. “I’ll be okay. She won’t.”

Jackson came closer, putting his hand to Mark’s shoulder. “Then, don’t break up,” he said, shaking his head. “You think this is easy?” he motioned to him and Jaebeom. “Let me tell you. It’s not. It’s hard work. The hardest thing you’ll ever do. There will be days when you absolutely hate each other. But at the end of the day, you both come together and you figure it out.”

Mark sighed, shrugging out of his grip. “You’re trivializing this.”

“You’re complicating this.”

Mark glared at him, arms tightening across his chest.

“Come on, Mark,” Jackson said, exasperated. “Let’s not pretend like you sending him back to Korea was anything more than what it was.”

His eyes narrowed. “And what’s that?”

“You choked,” Jackson shrugged. “Because you always choke, Mark. Every time.”

He rolled his eyes. “Jaebeom, please,” he pleaded. “Tell me you aren’t being as delusional as him.”

Jaebeom’s face was quiet, pensive. Questions in his eyes that he wasn’t voicing. His tongue working into his cheek before he finally spoke up. “Tell us honestly that you don’t want to be with him.”

Mark stared at him. The words were there, laid out for the taking. _I don’t want to be with him._ But everytime he tried, something stopped him. His throat swallowing them back down. He tried again, but all he could do was groan and look away. “I can’t believe this,” he muttered, shaking his head. “You both are ridiculous.”

Jackson hissed, “Then, do what you do best and-”

Jaebeom put a hand to Jackson’s shoulder, quieting him. “Mark,” he said, voice more soothing. “Just tell us the truth. Does he have a chance?”

Mark scowled at them in silence, nothing left to say. Mind capriciously going back and forth between extremes, feeling like his head was being shaken, left dizzier and dizzier. The frustration coming to a boil until he felt himself snap. “I don’t know!”

The creak of a door had all three of them turning their heads, seeing Youngjae leaning out of the auditorium. “Hey,” he winced, fingers drumming on the door’s edge. “I don’t mean to interrupt but could you guys try and keep your voices down?”

Jaebeom smiled. “Sorry, Mr. Choi,” he waved. “Just talking about, you know... Sports. Mowing the lawn. Dad stuff.”

Youngjae’s mouth went tight. “Mmm,” he hummed. “Well, if you could take that conversation somewhere else, we’d really appreciate it.” He let the door swing closed again.

Mark sighed, stepping closer to them. Still feeling too hot and frustrated. “I’m going to take a loop around the school,” he said, keeping his voice low. “When I come back, we will not be talking about this anymore.”

Jaebeom and Jackson exchanged glances again.

Jackson cleared his throat, “Yes, sir.”

\---

Thankfully, Mark and Jackson and Jaebeom didn’t speak about it after that. But the conversation still left an imprint on him that he couldn’t smooth out. And trying to only made him feel increasingly frustrated with the way that everyone seemed to want Jinyoung back. And maybe it should have felt like a sign but it didn’t. It only made him feel bitter, like maybe everyone was turning against him. Choosing Jinyoung over him just like he feared Sunny would.

The night finally came. The play that Sunny and her class had been preparing for. And Mark was doing up the buttons of a dress shirt in his mirror when he wondered for a moment why it looked so familiar. Before realizing the last time he’d worn the shirt had been that date with Jinyoung at the taco truck. And he couldn’t help but remember the comfortable conversation, the haze of blossoming desire, the clumsy and drunken near kiss on the front porch. And he let himself just have a singular moment to remember what that felt like. To have someone waiting downstairs for him. Not just anyone. And he let himself want that for just a moment. Before he sealed it away, somewhere he hoped not to find it again.

He flicked off the lights of his room. “Sunny,” he called, as he came down the stairs. “Come on. Let’s double check to make sure we have everything. Uncle Jackson and Uncle Jaebeom should be here any-” he stopped, eyes surveying the living room and not seeing her. He went to the kitchen, seeing nothing but Milo lapping up water at his dish.

He went down the hall, to her bedroom door, giving it a knock. “Sunny, you ready?”

“I’m not going,” she said firmly from the other side.

Mark felt the turn of his stomach. Feeling so caught off guard that he waved it away as something ridiculous. But when he reached for the doorknob, it wouldn’t turn. Locked. “Baby, let me in.”

“No,” she said. “I’m staying here.”

The reality of it began to set in. Mark’s shoulders slumped with an agitated sigh. He slipped a hand down his heated neck, walking in a small circle. “Why?” he asked, sounding annoyed. “What happened?”

“I’m going to mess it up,” she said, voice even. “And everyone’s going to see me up there and think I’m a big idiot.”

Mark felt a pang of empathy for her. “Hey. That’s not true,” he said, leaning his forehead against the door. “You heard Mr. Choi. He said you did great at the dress rehearsal.”

“There was no audience, Dad,” she said. “No people.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Mark shook his head. “The people don’t mean anything.”

“Yes, they do. They mean everything.”

Mark pulled away, rubbing his face. Still not quite believing that this was happening. “Sunny,” he pleaded. “Please. Come on. Don’t do this. Not tonight, baby.”

But she didn’t say anything else, just let Mark sit in a silence that he could only take as confirmation of her stance. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to figure out what to do.

The doorbell rang, pulling Mark from his spot to answer it.

Standing on the front step was Jaebeom holding a green praying mantis mask and wearing a beaming smile across his face. “Ready?” he asked. But as soon as he studied Mark, his face fell. Filling with concern. “What’s wrong?”

Mark sighed. “She won’t come out.”

“What?” Jaebeom’s face drew up in surprise.

Mark shook his head, crossing his arms. “She locked herself in her room.”

“Why?”

He combed a hand through his hair. “I guess she’s having stage fright,” he shrugged, his irritation seeping through his tone.

Jaebeom leaned onto one foot, toying with the mask between his fingers. Silent for a long moment before looking up at Mark. “Can I try?” he asked, innocently.

Mark shook his head. “I mean sure. Whatever.”

Jaebeom turned towards Jackson’s car running in the driveway, gesturing for him to wait.

Mark saw the motion of Jackson point to his watch, knowing they were short on time. He let Jaebeom come inside, following him back to Sunny’s bedroom.

Jaebeom leaned himself up against the door. “Sunny?” he knocked cautiously. “You there?”

“Uncle Jaebeom?”

“It’s me,” he smiled to himself. “I was wondering if you wanted to talk?”

There was a moment of thinking. “No.”

Jaebeom looked up to Mark who just shrugged, holding up his hands. He took a deep breath. “You can tell me what’s wrong,” he said. “I’m here to listen.”

She was quiet, but when she spoke, there was the slightest crack of emotion in her voice. “I don’t want to go out there,” she said. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

She went silent again. But when she spoke, her voice was so close that Mark could tell she was on the other side of the door. “Is my dad there?” she whispered.

Jaebeom looked up at him with wide eyes.

Mark beckoned towards the door with a nod, signaling him to continue.

Jaebeom’s features went flat with a disapproving look. He sighed. “No,” he winced as he lied. “He’s not here. It’s just us.”

“Uncle Jaebeom,” she said, hushed. The sounds of tears welling up in her throat. “I’m sad.” 

“Why?” Jaebeom softened. “What’s wrong?”

She sniffed, crying faintly. “I miss Jinyoung,” she choked out, voice pitching higher.

Mark’s stomach twisted together, jaw clenching as he held his breath, struggling to keep from making a noise. When he looked up, Jaebeom was watching him. The look on his face empathetic.

“I know you do,” he said, still staring at Mark. Voice so tender and sad.

“I want him here. So bad,” Sunny cried. “I don’t want to look at all the people watching tonight and not see him.”

Mark felt the itch of his own eyes, his chest aching with her pain like it was his. Thinking that maybe it was. Maybe they were suffering the same loss more similarly than Mark had thought.

“You can do it without him, Sunny,” Jaebeom assured. “Just like you did at the dress rehearsal. You don’t have to be scared.”

“I’m not scared,” she said. “I just can’t do it without Jinyoung. It wouldn’t be right.”

Jaebeom blinked, leaning into the doorway. “Why did you tell your dad you’re scared then?”

“I-” she stuttered. “I don’t want him to make him sad. He always looks sad if I talk about him.”

Mark felt the tears well up in his eyes. Feeling the sting of guilt in them. That his own daughter couldn’t even be honest with him. Unwilling to risk hurting his feelings when she was hurting too. And it made him so mad at himself and at Jinyoung and at this whole mess that felt endless. Like Mark hadn’t stopped running since Seoul and had been dragging Sunny behind him without looking back.

“A lot of people are depending on you, Sunny,” Jaebeom urged. “Mr. Choi, your classmates.”

“I know,” Sunny’s voice wavered. “And I’m sorry. But I can’t do this without Jinyoung.”

Jaebeom looked up at Mark, his eyes even more filled with empathy now. He bit his cheek, turning back towards the door. “Is there _anything_ I can do to change your mind?”

“No,” she said, resolutely.

Mark shook his head, walking himself back down the hall and into the living room. But even there, the air felt too stagnant and he just needed to breathe. So he went out to the backyard, starting to pace back and forth by the pool. The tears in his eyes growing heavier with the overwhelming confusion of what to do while simultaneously trying to fight back every stray thought that had him beating himself up once again.

Jaebeom stood in the doorway for a moment before stepping outside, closing it behind him. His mouth small and his eyes heavy.

Mark’s hand rubbed at his face, pushing back his hair. “I can’t believe she’s doing this.”

Jaebeom was quiet, staring.

“This play is so important. There are so many people expecting her to be there. She’s the freaking lead,” he scoffed around his wet throat. “But she’s refusing to do it. All because she wants one person here. God, was she planning this little stunt the whole time?”

Jaebeom put his hands in his pockets. “She’s hurting, Mark.”

“Well, aren’t we all!” he roared. “ _God damn it._ Why can nobody move on from him?” his hands fisted together. “It’s been two months and I’ve been doing everything to try and keep things moving forward. Because isn’t that what you told me to do? Put it all behind me?” He felt the erratic rise and fall of his chest. “But everyone else is making that impossible. Everyone is refusing to let me forget him.”

“Because everyone knows, Mark.”

He stopped, looking at him. “Knows what?”

“That you love him.”

Mark felt the sink of his chest, the sink of everything. Feeling suddenly like his shoes were filled with cement, weighing him to the ground beneath his feet. Shoulders and expression going slack.

“You still don’t get it,” Jaebeom shook his head, stepping forward. “When you left Seoul, we didn’t know what to think. After everything you told us about him, we felt just as betrayed as you did. He broke our best friend’s heart. Of course we wanted you to move on, Mark,” he huffed. “But he came back. Stayed with us. Talked to us. Told us way more things than you ever did,” his eyebrows rose. “And yes, we could see he made mistakes, but we could also see that he never intended to hurt anyone. We could see how hard he was trying, how hard he always tried.”

Mark gulped. Eyes still wet with looming tears, heart racing shallowly in his chest as his mind went quiet. Not trying to speak so loudly for once. Just listening, hanging on every word.

“Mark,” Jaebeom stood across from him, exposing him with just a glance. “We know that you miss him. Even if you don’t want to admit it. Even if missing him just makes you mad all over again.” He reached his arm out, touching Mark’s shoulder. “But all of us,” he stressed. “Me, Jackson, Sunny. We want you to be happy. And we know. _We know._ That if you just learned to forgive yourself, accept yourself, that all three of you could finally heal from this and find the solution.”

Mark felt reanimated by Jaebeom’s touch, tears breaking down his cheeks as he rushed to sweep them away Trying to keep his eyes steady on Jaebeom’s face even if he felt so vulnerable and exposed doing so. Weak and fragile and about to break. “W-what do I do?” he asked, voice hushed and stuttered. “Right now. What do I do?”

The corner of Jaebeom’s mouth tugged upwards by a millimeter. “Call him,” he whispered.

Mark shrank a little smaller at the thought. He sniffed. “I don’t have his number,” he said, wiping his nose. “I deleted it.”

Jaebeom reached into his pocket, taking out his phone and offering it.

Mark looked down at it, shoulders quivering. “Jaebeom,” he murmured. “I can’t.”

“She needs him. She loves him,” Jaebeom said, gripping him tighter. “And her love for him doesn’t mean less love for you. You understand that right?”

Mark shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “I’m not sure.”

Jaebeom breathed. “Don’t be too prideful to help your own daughter,” he said. “You’re a better father than that.”

Mark gulped, eyes flicking down towards the phone again. “He’s not even-”

“Just call him,” Jaebeom insisted, extending the phone closer.

Mark carefully took it in his hand. And as soon as he did, Jaebeom squeezed his shoulder once more. Smiling gently as he pulled away, going back inside.

Mark stood there, alone in the backyard. The sun setting and the birds chirping. Calling their families home before nightfall. He sighed, holding up the phone and unlocking it with the combination of Yugyeom and Bambam’s birthdays that he knew. He went to the contacts, scrolling down into the J’s until he saw Jinyoung’s name. Not on the list he expected to be searching, but finally finding it nonetheless.

His finger hovered over the call button, hesitating. Thinking of Sunny, cooped up in her bedroom. The pain in her voice. The same pain they shared. And even if he couldn’t ease his own, he knew it was his job to ease hers. He dialed the number, looking out over the orange dusk light reflecting off the pool as the phone rang.

“Yeoboseyo?”

Jinyoung’s Korean echoed through the line, making Mark’s ear tingle as he felt every muscle stiffen. Trying to fight the heated itch of his skin.

“Hi.”

There was a pause from the other side, long enough for him to catch the noisy background of wherever Jinyoung was. “Mark?”

The sound of his name made him feel like he was twisting into knots. Folding in on himself, going deeper. 

“Yeah,” he said, voice weak. “It’s me, Jinyoung.”

That weakness must have given it away. Or maybe it was the fact that he was calling at all. “What’s wrong?” Jinyoung asked, tender concern filling his tone.

Mark felt it like a gentle touch, so sincere and caring that it made everything in him peel open. “It’s Sunny’s play tonight.”

“I know,” Jinyoung murmured. “I remembered.”

Mark looked up into the sky, noting the tinge of purple in the clouds. He swallowed. “She won’t do the show,” he confessed. “She won’t come out of her room.”

“Why?” he asked.

Mark felt his eyes water all over again, blotting them with his fingertips. “Cause you aren’t here.”

_“Please remain in the terminal area in the event we are able to start final processing and boarding sooner than expected.”_

Mark froze. “Are you-” he stopped, realization sparking. “Are you still here? In Los Angeles?”

Jinyoung went quiet for too long a moment, adding to Mark’s anticipation. “For fifteen more minutes,” he finally said.

On the inhale, Mark’s whole body went unequivocally nervous at the unspoken connotation. That Jinyoung was close enough to see, to touch, to stand before him again. But on the exhale, it felt more like a sigh of relief.

“Mark,” he said, voice soft and close like he was there with him. “Talk to me.”

He bit his lips, looking at his watch. “How quickly can you be here?”

“Within the hour,” Jinyound replied, no hesitation in his voice.

Mark felt the race of his heart in his chest. “Then, you better hurry.”

When Mark came back into the house, Jaebeom was in the foyer talking to Jackson in the open doorway. Beyond it, Mark could still hear their car running.

Jaebeom looked back, eyes wide. “How did it-”

“You both are cutting it tight,” Mark came forward, handing him back his phone. “Go. Tell Youngjae we will bring her as soon as we can.”

Jaebeom’s mouth spread in a slow smile. “I’ll tell him,” he nodded. “We’ll see all three of you there.”

\---

Mark sat at the kitchen table, gaze shifting between Sunny’s bedroom door, the clock on the stove, Milo chewing at a toy on the tile. He had flicked the kitchen lights on when the twilight became too weak to see and in the harsh overhead light, everything was so uncomfortably silent and menacingly slow that he could almost feel each drawn out second tick away.

But finally, there was a ring of the doorbell that had Milo dropping his toy and raising his head. Mark slowly rose to his feet, pushing in his chair as he walked through the darkened home towards the front door. Seeing the outline of a person in the frosted glass, the high points of their face, shoulders, chest, white from the porchlight above them. He drew in a stiff breath as he reached out, pulling the door open. 

Jinyoung’s gaze was immediately there. Intently fixated on Mark’s face. Holding layers of apology and empathy and uncertainty stacked on top of each other. He was dressed just as sharply as he’d been three weeks ago when he’d shown up on Mark’s doorstep just to get shut out. Only this time, he had a weekender bag strapped over his shoulder.

He didn’t speak, looking at Mark like he was waiting. Trying to gauge his reaction. 

Mark couldn’t settle on what reaction to give him. Because there were so many flooding him. Resentment and relief. Bitterness and gratefulness. But overwhelmingly, he just felt tired. Like if he hadn’t been leaning on the door frame, he’d be falling to his knees. Nevertheless, he held himself firm, mouth pressing into a thin line. “Welcome back,” he breathed, his tone so polarized between sarcasm and sincerity that even he wasn’t sure which one to believe.

Jinyoung seemed to be suffering from the same dilemma as his face went more nervous. Fingers wearing against the strap of his bag. “Where is she?” he asked, voice small.

Mark sighed. “Still in her room.” He felt something brushing up against his leg. He looked down, seeing Milo skate past him in the doorway. The dog started to sniff at Jinyoung’s feet.

Jinyoung looked down at him. A soft smile spreading on his face. “Hi, Milo,” he whispered, scratching at the puppy’s ears. “Remember me?”

And it was obvious the dog did by the eager way he jumped, pawing at Jinyoung’s knees.

Jinyoung laughed, squatting down. “Come here,” he said, gathering him up in his arms. He kissed the top of his fluffy white curls until Milo was craning his neck to lick at his chin, tail thumping against him with reckless abandon.

Mark felt the tug of his heart, looking away. “Hey,” he looked at his watch. “She doesn’t have a lot of time.

“Oh, of course,” Jinyoung put Milo down. “Sorry.” He came in, dropping his bag by the door. He looked up at the darkened house, taking it in for a moment before he looked back at Mark. He motioned down the hall. “Should I just...”

Mark swallowed. “Yeah,” he shrugged. “Go for it.”

Jinyoung took in a deep breath as he walked carefully down the hallway. One hand reaching out to drag his fingertips along the wall.

Mark stood at the end of the hall, watching him. And although it had been three months since Jinyoung had been in the house, Mark couldn’t help but have the passing thought that the man always seemed to be a piece of their household they never knew was missing until he was back again. Mark crossed his arms over his chest, observing from that safe distance.

Jinyoung turned, leaning up against Sunny’s door and pressing his ear against it, listening. His eyes directed towards the floor. A moment stretching out before he raised his fist, holding it still for a moment before he knocked quietly.

“Go away,” Sunny whined from somewhere in her room. “I told you I’m not going.”

Even from the distance, from the stripes of light escaping from the kitchen and painting half of Jinyoung’s face, from the angle where his eyes were still on the floor, Mark could see the smile spreading at his lips. Euphoric and beautiful. And the sight of it had warmth pooling in the low of his stomach, growing warmer the longer he watched it. 

Jinyoung licked those smiling lips. “Really?” he asked, voice silky smooth. “But I was really looking forward to the show.”

Mark held his breath. The moment stood frozen in time, suspended in midair. No one moved. No one made a sound. Not even Milo who was sitting at Mark’s feet.

One thing broke the spell. The click of Sunny’s door lock. The sound alone felt like a bolt of lightning up his spine. His eyes focusing on the door as it was torn open. And in a flash of red plaid, Sunny jumped up, wrapping her arms around Jinyoung’s neck.

Jinyoung must not have been ready for it, because he tried to reach his arms around to catch her but instead toppled backwards to the floor, clutching her tight enough to bear the brunt of the impact.

Mark instinctively gasped, stepping one foot forward.

Sunny didn’t even seem to notice that they’d fallen though as she kept hugging him close. Shoulders trembling as she buried her face in his clothes, muffling howled sobs.

Jinyoung sat up, wrapping his arms around her tighter and kissing into her hair. “It’s okay,” he soothed, rocking her. “I’m here. I’m here.”

Mark’s legs felt suddenly weak again and reached out to hold the wall and steady himself. Feeling everything in him sink at the sight. Not sure who he wanted to be between the two of them.

Sunny pulled her face away, looking up at him. Her cheeks red and soggy and still so cute. “W-why are you here?” she sniffled, her wide eyes taking in his whole face from top to bottom. Small hands coming up to feel his cheeks like she wasn’t sure he was even real. Choking around her tears, “How are you here?”

Jinyoung’s smile brightened, a wisp of laughter pulling from his chest that nearly sounded choked as well. “What do you mean?” he tucked her hair behind her ear. “I’m here to watch your play.”

“But,” she blinked, shaking her head. “I thought you were in Korea.”

“I was,” he nodded. “But now, I’m here with you. Exactly where I want to be.”

She threw her arms around his neck again, burying her face into his neck. “I missed you,” she cried. “So much.”

Jinyoung laughed, pulling her away and looking into her face. His thumbs coming up to wipe the tears away. “I missed you too, Haeseon,” he whispered. “More than you’ll ever know.”

Sunny smiled, big, wet eyes holding so much love. She turned to look up at Mark. “Dad,” she beamed. “He’s here. He made it.”

Mark felt the ache of his chest. He swallowed down any wetness in his throat, desperate to conceal it from his voice. “He did,” he said, watching Jinyoung look up at him. That joyous smile across his face making his chest ache even deeper. “Now,” he said, looking away. “Can we get this show on the road?”

\---

It was weird driving with Jinyoung in the passenger seat again. Listening to Sunny ask question after question. Asking about his life. If his movie finished shooting. When it would come out. How Bit was. Rapid fire until Jinyoung had stopped her, said she should practice once more for the show. And she proceeded to say her lines with ease.

“Make it sound more like a question,” Jinyoung noted. “Try one more time.”

Mark saw her nod in the rearview mirror before starting again. And he felt hyper aware of Jinyoung’s presence next to him. The man’s knees twisted towards him from looking toward the back seat. Close enough that if Mark took a hand off the wheel, he could easily lay it against his leg. But instead, he tightened his grip, pulling into the school.

The parking lot was packed with cars. Mark managed to find a spot, parking and hurrying to grab all of Sunny’s things as well as his own bag from the back.

“Come on,” he said, reaching for her hand. “We can’t have Mr. Choi waiting any longer.”

Sunny took it, reaching up her other one towards Jinyoung.

He smiled, holding onto it, rushing to keep pace with Mark’s quick steps.

When they got inside, they came up the hallway towards the stage entrance where Youngjae was already standing. The teacher’s whole demeanor looking uneasy and nervous as he checked his watch.

“We’re here!” Mark rushed to call out. “I’m so sorry. There was a situation and-”

Youngjae looked over, shoulders falling with a sigh. “I swear to god, Mark. I was about to-” he stopped, eyes going wide. “Oh, Jinyoung. You’re here.”

Mark looked, seeing Jinyoung’s expression mirroring that same look of being taken aback. “Yeah,” he nodded, shy. “I’m here to watch the show.”

Youngjae’s eyes momentarily flashed back to Mark, subtly. “Well, it’s nice to see you,” he smiled. “Come on, Sunny. We are already late.”

“Wait!” she called. She let go of Mark’s hand, coming closer to Jinyoung and looking up at him. Her eyes going wide and her face going serious. She held his hand. “You promise you’ll stay?”

Jinyoung smiled, kneeling in front of her. “Of course,” he laughed. “I’ll be watching the whole show. Just find me in the crowd. I’ll be here for you.”

“No, will you-” she stopped, glancing up at Mark for a moment. She buttoned her lips tightly together. Eyes focusing back on Jinyoung. “I’ll see you after the show,” she said, letting go of him. Then, she stepped up to Mark, looking at him cautiously before wrapping her arms around his hips.

Mark felt the warmth of her arms, her face, buried against him. He reached down, letting his hand touch her hair.

She looked up at him. “Thank you, Dad,” she said softly. “And I’m sorry.”

“Sunny Bunny,” Mark sighed, drawing her chin upwards. He shook his head. “You can’t be doing things like that.”

“I know,” she nodded. “That wasn’t a good thing to do. I understand if I am in trouble.”

Mark could hear the quiet sincerity of her tone. He pulled her arms away as he knelt down, drawing her in for a hug. Holding her tightly and feeling each of those nearly seven years between his arms. Bigger and smarter and more independent than ever before. But just as much Mark’s as she’d been the first moment he held her. And it drew just the same level of emotion as it had then. “I love you, Sunny,” he whispered.

“I love you too, Daddy,” she replied, squeezing him. “But I have to go. I have to do the show.”

“You really do,” Youngjae nodded. “Like really really.”

Mark felt the smile spread across his face. He huffed, pulling away. “You’re right,” he nodded. “Go. Break a leg.”

She smiled, backing away and taking Youngjae’s hand with a wave.

Mark watched her leave. He stood up, looking over at Jinyoung. “Well,” he sighed. “I’m sure Jackson and Jaebeom saved us some seats.”

Jinyoung nodded. His eyes going to the tote on Mark’s shoulder. “What’s in the bag?”

“Oh,” Mark perked, reaching inside. He pulled out a small bouquet. A few sunflowers with greenery interspersed. He handed them out towards Jinyoung.

The man looked at them, eyes going wide as he slowly took them. “For…”

“Sunny,” Mark answered. “They are her favorite.”

“Oh,” Jinyoung blinked. “Right. Of course, they are.” He twirled the flowers in his hands. “I wish I could have done that,” he smiled at them. “If I had known…”

Mark heard his words trail off. He looked into his eyes, seeing the small glimmer there under the fluorescent school lighting. And he was reminded of that way that Jinyoung was always trying so hard. Always putting in so much effort. And the thought alone elicited a burn up his neck and ears that felt unfamiliar. Something he hadn’t felt in months. He smoothed his hand down his neck, trying to quell it. He cleared his throat, putting his hands into his pockets. “Take them.”

Jinyoung looked up at him, face disbelieving. “What?”

“You give them to her,” Mark nodded. “From you.”

Jinyoung blinked. “Are you sure?”

“Jinyoung,” Mark rolled his eyes, staring to walk away and speaking over his shoulder. “Just take them.”

After a few moments, he heard Jinyoung’s dress shoes squeak against the linoleum as they rushed to catch up with him.

\---

Despite the late start, which Youngjae came out and apologized for before beginning, the show was perfect. Each of the little characters did their best effort. Yugyeom warranting a handful of laughs from the audience as he stood solitarily in the background with his arms poised like a mantis. Bambam managing to be just as chatty and snarky as the porcupine as he was in everyday life. But perhaps expectedly, no one shined as brightly as Sunny. And maybe Mark was biased, but he felt like the whole room was eagerly watching her, hanging on every word. Waiting for every small punchline to laugh or cheer or coo.

All the while, Mark could see Jinyoung, in his peripheral vision, not just beaming up at the stage with a wide smile, but actually absentmindedly mouthing some of the lines. And it made Mark think back to earlier in the bathroom, when he’d let himself imagine Jinyoung waiting for him downstairs. And though it hadn’t happened like that, Jinyoung was _here._ There were so many unanswered questions, so much unresolved tension. But Mark had to put that away for tonight. Because all that really mattered was the way that Sunny kept looking into the crowd and smiling when she saw both Mark and Jinyoung watching her. And though it wasn’t the clarity or closure that Mark wanted, it was something different. Something that felt just as satisfying.

When the show had ended and the crowd had erupted in applause, the children stood in a linked chain across the stage. When they had come forward, bowing for the crowd, Jinyoung rushed to reach into his pocket, pulling out his phone. It was only a flash of a moment, but right before he swiped the camera open, Mark saw his background. It was Sunny and him. Back long ago when Jinyoung was in Korea and they were on a video call with him. It must have been a screenshot from then. And though he hadn’t meant to, Mark thought about it the whole drive home.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Jinyoung spoke through his hands, projecting his voice to the whole living room. “Now introducing. The star of this evening’s production. Miss. Sunny. Tuan.” He cheered and clapped as Sunny came inside, carrying the sunflowers in her hand, a brilliant smile across her face.

“Alright, Ms. Superstar,” Mark rolled his eyes as he followed close behind her, shutting the front door. “Show time is over. Go change into your pajamas.”

“Let me have these,” Jinyoung said, taking the flowers from her hand. “I’ll put them in a vase for you.”

Sunny gasped, looking to Mark, “Can I put them by my bed?”

“Only if you make sure that Milo can’t knock them over,” Mark said. He pat her back in the direction of her room, “Now, go.”

“Yes, Dad,” she droned, running down the hall.

Mark followed Jinyoung to the kitchen, watching him open a high cabinet and pull out a glass vase. Reaching into a drawer and pulling out a pair of scissors.

“Here,” Mark said, grabbing the vase from the counter. “I’ll put water in this.”

“Thanks,” Jinyoung said, giving a soft smile.

Mark took it to the sink, filling it halfway before bringing it back, watching Jinyoung make quick work of cutting the stems as he began arranging them. “You’re pretty good at that,” he noted.

Jinyoung smiled. “My mom had a flower shop when I was younger.”

“Really?” Mark asked. “I never knew that.”

Jinyoung shrugged, “We never talked about that kind of stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

Jinyoung looked over at him. “Me.”

Mark’s stomach sank at the thought. “I’m sorry,” he said softly.

Jinyoung shook his head. “Don’t be,” he said. “It was just as much my fault.”

Mark went quiet, watching as he continued to carefully place the flowers. Having flashbacks to all the time they’d spent in this room. Doing dishes and making dinner and helping Sunny with homework. Talking and kissing. And in the moment, it felt like no time had passed at all. Like it was all the same. But maybe it wasn’t? Maybe it was? Mark couldn’t decide.

“There,” Jinyoung dusted off his hands. He picked up the vase, bringing it into the living room and placing it on the mantle. His head turning as he looked at one of the pothos that sat nearby. “Oh my god,” he gasped softly. “Look at them.” His fingers held up the leaves, watching them droop when he let go. He looked over his shoulder towards Mark, “Have you been giving them fertilizer?”

Mark watched him from the doorway of the kitchen. His arms crossing over his chest and his eyebrows drawing together. “We have fertilizer?”

“It’s under the sink.”

Mark’s shoulders came up defensively. “You’d have to ask Sunny,” he shook his head. “That’s her job.”

Jinyoung looked back, letting go of the pothos and sliding down the shelf. “The bonsai,” he breathed. Reaching out to touch it. He turned to meet Mark’s eyes again, brows slightly furrowed. “The pot is different.”

Mark felt the clench of his stomach as he remembered the crash it had made when it shattered. “Yeah,” he winced. “We-I had a bit of an accident.”

Jinyoung looked at him for a long moment, eyes studying him like maybe if he looked hard enough, he could see the story. “Well,” he finally said, mouth going tight. “It might be different, but I’m happy to see it’s still here.”

Mark felt warmer than he could explain, not knowing exactly how to stop it from seeping down his neck and shoulders as Jinyoung watched him. Happy for the distraction when Sunny came skipping down the hallway in her pajamas.

“Jinyoung,” she said, running to grab his hand and drag him towards the couch. “Let’s watch a movie.”

“Oh, uh,” the man blinked, hesitating. “Actually, I should probably be heading out,” he said, looking awkward. “I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“What?” Sunny stopped, her eyes going impossibly wide. “You aren’t going to stay?”

Jinyoung looked back at her, his brows turned upwards. Looking stunned, unsure of what to say. He opened his mouth.

Mark saw the panic in his features, the way he wasn’t sure how to explain. What he was allowed to say, do. And maybe he felt a bit of solidarity with him, as he’d been feeling the same way with many of Sunny’s questions as of late. “Jinyoung,” he rushed to call out. But when the man’s eyes flashed towards him, he suddenly felt a rush of nerves. He tightened his arms across his chest, “I mean you already missed your flight. Where would you go?”

Jinyoung’s face was just as timid as his voice. “There’s some hotels,” he nodded. “By the airport.”

Mark felt the nerves crawl up into his mouth. Making the words tingle when he said them. “Just stay here tonight.”

“A-are you sure?” he said, voice wavering.

Mark wasn’t, but there was no going back. “Yeah,” he gave a shrug. “It’s just a night.”

Jinyoung's eyes caught the living room light, glimmering every so slightly again. 

Mark felt the nerves subside, replaced with that warmth again, wondering suddenly if it was getting subtly more heated each time.

“Okay,” Jinyoung nodded. “I’ll stay.”

Mark took a deep breath in, pulling his eyes away. He looked to Sunny, smiling tightly, “How about you two start the movie and I bake up some of those cookies I’ve been hiding from you in the freezer?”

“Hiding?” she pouted. “Where?”

“Under the frozen spinach,” he raised his eyebrows. “How does that sound?”

She smiled wide. “Perfect,” she nodded.

Mark went to the kitchen, starting on the cookies and looking over from the kitchen as Jinyoung and Sunny giggled choosing a movie. And by the time the cookies were ready to be brought out, Sunny was cuddled close into Jinyoung side as they watched.

Mark sat on the opposite side of the couch, eyes on the movie but mind wandering. Remembering. Too many past nights like this and the way all three of them had unexpectedly found themselves falling back into it. Sunny smiling and laughing with a half-eaten cookie in her hand and Jinyoung not even laughing from the movie as much as laughing at her, smiling at her, watching her. Like maybe he was thinking about the way they had fallen back into it as well.

Even the way Sunny fell asleep, stretched out between them, her head using Jinyoung’s leg like a pillow, was just the same. Mark’s eyes watching the way Jinyoung’s hand kept smoothing down her hair and back. And he was surprised when he felt no sting of bitter jealousy there. No thought that Sunny might love Jinyoung more. Instead, he just felt wrapped up in the tender warmth of loving her. Of knowing that Jinyoung loved her just as much. Knowing that she deserved all the love she could get.

He felt eyes on him and when he looked up Jinyoung was watching him. Smiling. Handsome and soft.

Mark felt the squeeze of his heart in his chest, drawing in a breath to shake it off. “Is she out?” he asked, looking down at her.

“Yeah,” Jinyoung huffed. “She’s out.”

Mark pointed up towards the screen, “Are you invested in this?”

“Not really,” he shook his head. “She made me watch it twice before.”

“Then, maybe,” Mark reached for the remote, turning it off. “We should call it a night.” He looked back.

Jinyoung was staring down at Sunny, smoothing her hair off her neck. “Can I…” he asked, voice weak. He looked up at him, brows drawn together, nearly pained. “Can I put her to bed?”

Mark felt the squeeze in his chest again. He shook his head. “You don’t have to ask, Jinyoung.”

Jinyoung's smile was small as he picked her up from the couch, drawing her up onto his chest as he got up, taking her towards the hallway.

Mark watched, taking a deep breath. “I’m going to head to sleep,” he said, getting up and heading for the stairs. “Far too much excitement for one day.”

Jinyoung stopped, looking back at him. Eyes a little bit wider. “Yeah,” he nodded. “You’re probably right.”

Mark smiled politely. “Well, have a good night,” he said, starting up the stairs.

“Mark?”

He stopped, coming back down and peeking at him.

Jinyoung swallowed, hoisting Sunny a little higher onto his shoulder. “I just wanted to say thank you.”

Mark saw the nervous sincerity in his face, the air between them a little awkward. “Yeah,” he nodded, looking away. “Of course.” He licked his lips. “Night.”

“Night,” Jinyoung smiled, taking Sunny to her room.

Mark went upstairs, getting ready for bed and turning off the lights. He got into his bed, settling down. But as he stilled, he could hear below him the quiet murmuring coming from Sunny’s bedroom. Too soft to make out the words but still hearing the deep hum of Jinyoung’s voice. And the slow words of Sunny’s sleepy voice. And he’d forgotten the house could be anything but silent this time of night.

Eventually the murmurings stopped and Mark heard Jinyoung’s slow footsteps up the stairs before they went to the guest room. He heard the creak of the door shutting. The thump of Jinyoung dropping his bag.

Mark tried to disengage, tried to stop listening so hard and instead get more comfortable under his covers. He tried to close his eyes. But his ears were still so dialed in, trying to listen. Not even sure what they were listening for but getting caught up in all the smallest sounds of Jinyoung walking around the guest room.

When the sounds seemed to settle, Mark tried to as well, but something about the sudden silence made him feel uneasy. Made the darkness of the room feel cold and lonely and overwhelming. Is this how it felt without Jinyoung there? Had it always?

He couldn’t answer, all he could do is be desperate for more. So he found himself sliding out of bed, onto the floor. He crawled over to the wall that separated his and Jinyoung’s rooms, sitting with his back against it. And he strained his ears to listen.

There was nothing at first, only silence that stretched out like the dead of the night. But then, nearly too soft to hear, Mark’s ears picked up on the faint sound of Jinyoung humming. Something slow and sweet like a lullaby.

Mark’s chest went tight as Jinyoung’s hum broke into gentle singing. And Mark closed his eyes, picturing Jinyoung in his room, looking lovingly at those plants. Just as tenderly as he looked at Sunny. At Mark, once upon a time.

And as he sang, Mark felt his chest go tighter and tighter. Remembering all the life that Jinyoung had brought with him into that house in every way. In the plants he’d decorated the shelves with, the bright laughter that was just as musical as him singing, the hopeful vibrancy he offered to him and Sunny, expecting nothing in return. And the breath in Mark’s lungs went shallow, burning with the idea that maybe this house would always be quieter without Jinyoung in it. Always be lonelier. Always be devoid of something that both Mark and Sunny were miserably trying to be without.  
  
He felt his eyes well up at the thought, overwhelming and strong. Eyes stinging just as hard as his chest. He tried to breathe again, but it wouldn’t subside. The blood rushed in his ears as his chest began to pound, nearly drowning Jinyoung’s singing out. So the tears just pooled heavier and heavier until he was choking up around them, shoulders trembling as they started to cascade down his cheeks. He put his hand over his mouth as he tried to damper the sound, feeling the heat crawl up his neck, his ear, his cheeks. Praying for it to stop, wishing he could just breathe.

His eyes snapped up at the sound of the bedroom door opening. He looked up, seeing Jinyoung standing there. Eyes wide and mouth hanging open. And it was barely a second before he was rushing forward, kneeling down reaching out his arms. Wrapping them around Mark to draw him close, to hold him against his chest.

And maybe Mark would have fought it but at this point, he was so weak and tired and breathless that all he could do was fall into him. Bury his face into his shirt, sobbing. Feeling himself shake in the man’s arms. Feeling exactly how warm and soft he felt. And it just made him cry harder.

“I’m sorry,” Jinyoung whispered, sitting and clutching him tighter. “I’m so sorry.”

Mark tried to breathe again, feeling it just as shallow. “Don’t,” he choked out.

Jinyoung sighed, “Mark-”

“You keep apologizing,” he said, burying himself deeper into him. “Why won’t you stop?”

“I’m sorry,” he murmured again before stiffening. He let his cheek fall to the side of Mark’s head. “I just don’t know what else to say. I don’t know what you want.”

Mark inhaled, but it was unstable, rattling his whole chest. “I wanted it to work, Jinyoung,” he wept. “I wanted it to work so bad.”

“I know,” Jinyoung soothed, hands smoothing down his back. “So did I.”

Mark sniffled, pulling out of Jinyoung’s arms to wipe his nose with the back of his hand. “But it all went to shit,” he hissed, voice waterlogged. He looked up at him and even in the darkness, even through the blurriness of his tears, he could see the wide open anguish in his eyes. “It’s my fault, isn’t it?” he swallowed down the tears, gasping for more breath. “You’re too nice to say it,” he tried to smile, but it ached. “But if I hadn’t been so distrustful, so harsh, you could have told me the truth earlier. We could have worked through it. If I had just-”

“We’re both to blame,” Jinyoung said softly, fingers reaching to comb Mark’s hair away. “We both made mistakes.”

Mark’s hands fingers rubbed at his eyes, feeling how red and raw they felt. “And now,” he sniffed. “ _She’s_ the one who is suffering.” He shook his head, trying to keep the tears at bay again. “And I hate it. I hate it so much.”

“I know,” Jinyoung nodded, hand resting at Mark’s neck, absentmindedly toying with the hair at his nape. “I hate it too.”

Mark looked over at him, swallowing again. “What did she say?” he asked, voice tight. “When you put her to bed?”

Jinyoung looked nearly guilty, reluctant to say it. “She said she misses seeing you smile.”

He felt his pounding chest ache. And it hurt. To know that even when he had been trying to hide all this pain from Sunny, she was still seeing it. Learning how to hide her own in return. But he had to know, he just had to. “What else did she say?” 

Jinyoung went quiet. That hesitant look in his eyes twice as strong.

Mark reached for the hand at his neck, bringing it to his chest and clutching it tightly. “Tell me,” he urged.

Jinyoung’s eyes went down to that hand at the center of Mark’s chest. His fingers tangling them together. “She wanted me to stay. Forever,” he said, not meeting his eyes. “So that you can keep smiling.”

Mark should have expected her to say something like that, but it hit him all at once. This idea that Sunny just didn’t want Jinyoung to stay cause she loved him, but because she knew Mark did as well. She saw, just as clearly as he did, all that life and happiness Jinyoung had brought into that house. He drew in a deep breath, trying to calm the pounding of his heart. “What did you tell her?”

Jinyoung looked back up at him, eyes sad. “That I’ll stay as long as I can,” he said. “Make you smile as much as I can.”

Mark saw the quiet sincerity in him, even if he was buried under a layer of doubt. Like he wasn’t quite sure he could keep that promise. Because it wasn’t up to him. Mark grated their fingers together, clutching them tighter. Working up the courage to ask through a frail voice. “Do you want to stay?”

Jinyoung’s eyes went serious, brow hardening. He dragged Mark closer until they were face to face. “Of course, I do, Mark,” he whispered. “That’s all I ever wanted.”

Mark was so close. Close enough to feel Jinyoung’s breath against his mouth, warm and quickened. And his face, every detail was in sharp focus. Catching the smallest hint of light coming in from the windows. And Mark had the passing thought that the last time they’d been this close, they’d been spitting insults at each other. Trying to dig deep, to hurt. 

And this was the same in some respects. Equally painful albeit in a totally different way. But different as well. Because the last time they’d been this close, there was no question about how they’d be leaving that conversation. No question that it was anything but a painful end. But this? What was this meant to end in? 

Mark groaned, frustrated and hazed. “This isn’t…” he sighed. “It was _always_ supposed to be just me and her.” He shook his head, eyes stinging again. “I didn’t plan for you. _Never_ did I plan for you.”

Jinyoung’s eyes searched his face, the very corners of his lips turning up ever so slightly. “I didn’t plan for you either,” he whispered. “It could have been so much easier. You could have been anyone else.” He drew Mark’s hand to his mouth, kissing at his knuckles. Eyes going brighter in the darkness. “But you had to be you, didn’t you?” 

And something about it, the hint of a grin playing at his mouth. The press of his lips. The brightness of his eyes. The slight lilt of his tone. All of it had Mark’s mouth unconscious pulling into a mirrored grin.

Jinyoung squeezed his hand. “There’s that smile I missed.”

And it only worked to make Mark’s smile grow wider. To have him looking down into his lap to keep the blush off his cheeks. When it felt safe, he looked back up catching his eyes again. “What else have you missed?”

Jinyoung licked his lips. “Everything,” he said, voice dark and warm. “Sunny waking us up when she’d crawl into your bed. Seeing you smile over the rim of your wine glass on Jackson and Jaebeom’s deck,” he grinned wider. “Even swimming those laps in your pool hoping that you’d be watching.”

Mark’s body went hot, flooding nervously with every memory. The way Jinyoung’s words, his voice made him feel them all over again. As fresh and vivid as before. He beckoned towards the window. “It’s there,” he said. “The pool.”

Jinyoung’s eyes brightened. Eyes painting down Mark’s face and back up again. “Come with me,” he whispered.

Mark’s body clenched tightly at the thought. “No,” he shook his head, pulling his hand and his eyes away. “I can’t.”

Jinyoung laughed, reaching for Mark’s chin and raising it to meet his smiling eyes. “Why not?”

Mark went quiet, still. But his mind was frantic with thoughts. Memories of that pool. Where it had led them last time they were in it. What it had started. And if Mark hadn’t been sure where this conversation was going, where he’d wanted it to go, the pool felt even more unknown. And Mark hated when his curiosities spoke louder than any logic, any caution. And Jinyoung’s fingers hot against his skin only made it worse. He bit his lips, eyebrows drawing together. “Did you even pack a swimsuit?”

Jinyoung shook his head. “We don’t need them,” he said, too simply. He stood up, offering Mark a hand. “Come with me.”

\---

Jinyoung had enough sense to grab two towels from the hall closet as he dragged Mark behind him. Down the stairs and out to the backyard, careful to shut the glass door soft enough to not make a sound.

Mark looked out over the pool, the blue glowing light of it painting the whole backyard. The night buzzing with insects and distant highway noise so distant that Mark could hear his own unsteady breaths loud in his ears.

When he looked back, Jinyoung was staring at him. His fingers working into the buttons of his shirt that he hadn’t changed from the show. Undoing them one by one.

Mark held back the hiss that sat just past his teeth, swallowing it down. He reached for the hem of his t-shirt, grabbing it and pulling it over his head.

Jinyoung shrugged out of his shirt, tossing it onto a deck chair before his fingers went to his belt, undoing it and his pants and letting them slide down his legs. Putting them to the side as well. Standing in front of Mark, with nothing obscuring the cuts of his body except for a pair of well-fitted red underwear. Seemingly the same ones from the laundry machine incident all those months ago.

 _Of fucking course._ Mark thought, hating the irony. And yet his body thrummed with want and disbelief, that they were really here. Really doing this. Whatever this was.

Mark more clumsily shoved off his pajama pants, kicking them to the side and left in only a pair of boxers that made him feel oddly undressed in comparison. And yet, when he looked up, Jinyoung’s eyes were on him, warm and powerful like they were his hands.

Mark felt a rush of heat reach his cheeks. He turned away, concealing it and sliding himself into the pool, thankful that it was cool enough to offer some sort of comfort. He dipped his head beneath the water, coming up and pushing his hair away from his face as he looked back.

Jinyoung was sitting at the pool’s edge. The blue light dancing off all the high points of his body. A small little grin across his handsome features.

Mark wanted to hide, but there was nowhere left to go. “Are you just going to watch?” he asked, hearing his voice reverberate off the surface.

Jinyoung smiled wider, slipping into the pool with a splash. He sunk down, letting the water meet his mouth and leaving his watchful eyes on full, vibrant display.

Mark couldn’t take it anymore. He dove under the water, putting space between them as he drifted to the deeper end of the pool, coming up for air. “So,” he treaded water. “You didn’t go home. After the last time we spoke.”

“I was going to,” Jinyoung offered.

Mark watched Jinyoung take slow steps across the shallow part of the pool. “But you stayed for so long,” he questioned. “Why?”

Jinyoung shrugged. “I guess I was foolish enough to think there might be a chance of you inviting me to the show,” he leaned up against one of the walls. “But last night, I still had no invitation. So, I bit the bullet and booked a flight.” His smile broke, white teeth showing through even from a distance. “I don’t think I’ve ever been happier about missing a flight.”

Mark huffed, rolling his eyes. “Hey, I didn’t invite you,” he said. “My hand was forced by a certain stubborn six year old.”

Jinyoung’s stayed bright, like it didn’t even matter why he was here, just that he was. “She gets that from you,” he said, blue light reflecting in his eyes. “The stubbornness.”

And maybe in the past, Mark would have fought that idea, or worse, taken offense to it. But with the way Jinyoung was saying it, the smile illuminating his eyes, it felt like a compliment. So instead, he nodded. “She does,” he agreed.

The smile on Jinyoung’s face softened, everything about him going a little more serious. “You didn’t have to give into her,” he said. “But you did. And I appreciate that.” He pressed his lips together. “It meant a lot to me to be there.”

Mark drew a deep breath in, feeling his chest expand in the water. “It meant a lot to her, too,” he said softly.

And it did. That’s exactly why she’d fought for it. However selfish and misguided it had been. Because she didn’t just see Jinyoung as a friend, a playmate. But something more. And the irony didn’t escape Mark.

“What?” Jinyoung asked, sinking deeper into the water. “What are you thinking about?”

“I don’t know,” Mark shook his head. Weighing his words. “It’s just… last time we talked, you told me that I’m her father. Because I make her feel safe and loved. Because she confides in me.” He paused, thinking. “But tonight, she felt safe and loved with you. She confided in you.” 

Jinyoung went silent, no more trace of a smile on his face. He was just staring. Waiting.

Mark felt overwhelmed by it, regretting even saying anything. Because he hadn’t quite worked out what it meant. So he looked away, changing the subject. “I heard about what’s happening in Korea,” he offered.

“Oh. You heard about that.”

“Mmhm,” he hummed, swimming over to the shallower water and standing up. “I saw Sujin’s statement.”

“Yeah,” Jinyoung breathed. “I’ve met her husband a few times. He’s a nice guy.”

Mark looked up at him. “I’m sorry,” he said, softer. “In Korea, I assumed-”

Jinyoung winced slightly, painfully remembering. “It’s okay, Mark,” he shook his head. “You don’t have to explain. I know you were hurting.”

“Yeah,” Mark tried to pull himself back. “I, uh,” he cleared his throat. “Noticed you… haven’t said anything. Publicly.” 

Jinyoung’s face was drawn tight in some form of confusion. “Of course, I haven’t,” he shook his head. “I wouldn’t do that to you and Sunny without asking.” 

Mark’s breath felt nervous in his chest, unable to look away this time. Barely noticing as he took a step towards him. “Did you… want to?”

Jinyoung’s face stayed tight. “That was always my intention,” he said. “If I was able to get your permission. It’s why I first started reaching out to people with the idea of collectively coming out.”

Mark stilled, his breath and his hands and seemingly time itself, all of it freezing. Staring back at Jinyoung and replaying the statement. Hearing the subtext there that hadn’t been as clear the first time. “You started it.”

Jinyoung’s face went slightly nervous, ducking down into the water to nearly his nose for a moment as he seemed to mull over his own words. “I mean,” he stood again, hesitating. “It got bigger than I thought it would,” he said, overly modest from the tone of his voice to the uneasy pull at one side of his face. “It started with maybe... twenty people I knew in the industry?” his voice pitching higher at the end. 

“But when they came out, it spread to their friends, their coworkers. Fans created that stupid hashtag. It kind of took on a life of its own.” He looked down into his hands, swirling water between them. “It’s all been pretty shocking to watch, even from over here,” he shrugged. “Something you never think is going to change and then one day, it just starts happening and doesn’t seem to be going back.”

Mark felt overwhelmed with the rush of new information. Hearing the genuine surprise in Jinyoung’s voice at what it all turned into. “Why did you start it?” he asked. “If you weren’t sure whether you’d be able to release a statement.”

Jinyoung’s lips pressed together, pensive. “It's the right thing to do,” he nodded. “People who are in the public eye shouldn’t have to hide away their personal lives.”

But even just looking at his face, Mark could see he was hiding something. Giving too staged of an answer. “It’s more than that,” he said, sure of it.

Jinyoung stared at him, looking caught, trapped. His tongue pressing into his cheek. “I… I had a plan, I guess.”

“A plan?” Mark’s eyebrows raised.

Jinyoung opened his mouth, trying to find the words. “A daydream more so,” he corrected. “Of what life could maybe look like. For the three of us.”

Mark noticed all his small gestures, adding them up. Seeing how nervous he was. So uncharacteristic of him. And it only heightened his curiosities, making him step closer again. “Tell me,” he said.

Jinyoung’s eyes widened as Mark got closer. He combed his wet hands through his hair, exhaling. “I’m embarrassed,” he admitted.

Mark felt the smile pull at his face. Slightly thrilled by the idea that just once it wasn’t himself who was squirming. “Hey,” he whispered, reaching out and touching Jinyoung’s cheek. “Don’t be.”

Jinyoung bit his lips, reaching up and drawing Mark’s hand away. Holding it between his own just below the water’s surface for a moment before watching it fall away. He drew in a deep breath, chest expanding, “I guess the intention was that I could connect people who are all tired of the strain our careers put on our personal lives. And by coming out consecutively, it would be like a safeguard to protect us from the news impacting our promotions, our roles,” he said. He looked up at Mark, eyes big and uncertain. “And eventually, with your consent, I’d release my own statement. Nothing complicated or specific. Just stating that I was happily in a relationship and that I had a child. Just enough to free us all. So that we could walk around Seoul and there would be nothing left for the press to expose.”

Mark felt the slight thrum of his heart at the sound of Jinyoung not just hoping to announce Sunny, but him as well. But there were deeper implications there even. “So, we’d move to Seoul?” he asked, before rushing to amend. “In this… daydream of yours?”

“In the summers,” Jinyoung nodded, voice growing more confident. “I’d shift my career. Only take roles for those four months. So we’d live there for the season.” A small smile crept across his face as he thought about it. “And Sunny would get to know my parents and I could buy an apartment with an office for you and when I wasn’t filming, I could take us out. Like a real… _family._ Not like a secret,” he smiled, something euphoric in it. “And sure, maybe people would sneak a picture or something if we were at a restaurant or shopping. But we’d have nothing left to explain to them. How great would that be?” he laughed.

Mark felt his own smile grow slightly, justifying it by thinking that it was just from the excited way Jinyoung was talking. Unwilling to admit any effect of the actual words. “And then the other nine months?”

“We’d live here. In California,” Jinyoung affirmed. “Keep Sunny in the school she loves. With the people she loves. Keep this house that you love. And one day,” he drew in a breath. “When you and her were ready, we’d tell her who I am. And we’d be happy, I think. Really happy.”

Mark could see that unbridled hopefulness on his features, brighter than maybe he’d ever seen it. All at the idea that the three of them weren’t something of the past. In fact, perhaps their happiest days were ahead of them. “You really thought about all of this.”

Jinyoung shrugged. “I mean I had a lot of time alone to think about it.”

Mark knew that he did. Thinking about how Sunny and him were ripped so suddenly from his life. Imagining those cold and lonely spring days. And the thought had him falling back into the past, into what had happened. How they’d gotten here. And wondering if it could happen again. He felt the anxious crawl of his skin. “What if it’s not happy?” he asked, voice soft. “What if we make mistakes again?”

Jinyoung’s hopefulness didn’t dim. “Then, we fix them,” he said, surely. “We promise ourselves that we’ll always fix them.” 

Mark heard shades of Jackson’s words at the dress rehearsal. But this time they weren’t being aggressively forced onto him but, instead, conveyed with a smile, a dreamy optimism. Mark shook his head. “How are you so hopeful?” he whispered. “How are you not afraid?”

“The desire outweighs the fear.”

Mark huffed, at the easy way in which Jinyoung dismissed it. Knowing he should have seen that coming. He leaned his shoulder against the wall. “You were always the fearless one out of the two of us, Jinyoung.”

The man smiled. “I can’t be fearless for the both of us,” he said, stepping closer. “For it to work, you need to be fearless too.”

Mark felt the sink of his stomach, knowing he was right. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Easier said than done,” he sighed.

“Try it,” Jinyoung whispered.

Mark blinked. “What?”

Jinyoung smiled. “Try being fearless,” he came close, pulling Mark’s arms apart. “What would you do first?”

Mark looked at the man standing across from him, close enough to feel the heat of his body, see the subtle shine of blue light in his eyes, the dewy droplets that dotted his chest. 

And he thought back to the last time Jinyoung and he talked. Remembering being close as well, touching even. Yet the fear had felt so heightened that Mark had convinced himself that they couldn’t move forward. That not enough had changed. Not enough to warrant a different outcome than the last time. And that fear of repeating the same mistakes had felt so much bigger than any desire to be with Jinyoung. So, just like Jackson had insinuated, he had choked.

But looking at him now, Mark was trying to pinpoint the same feeling. The same fear. And it was noticeably weaker. Wounded by something in their conversation that Mark didn’t have the time or understanding to be able to piece apart. He just knew that he wasn’t seeing things the same as he had then. And the idea of kissing Jinyoung didn’t just seem like a spell that would quell his worries for a few fleeting moments. But instead, it seemed like something more meaningful. Like a promise. And though he wasn’t quite sure what it was for, he knew he wanted it. More than he feared it.

Mark’s hand reached from below the water, coming up to cradle Jinyoung’s cheek again. And he watched as the man inhaled a deep breath, a hopeful glint in his eyes as they traveled down Mark’s face, resting at his mouth.

Mark felt himself smile, so wide that his teeth were visible as he drew Jinyoung’s face closer. Feeling how he turned so pliant in his hand. His face so close now that their noses could brush, so he slowly craned his head, letting them, feeling the way it made Jinyoung shiver. 

It only made him smile wider as he carefully leaned in, closing the space between their mouths. And _god_ , Jinyoung’s mouth felt even better here than it had on his palm. Warm and gentle and humid with pool water. That hand on his cheek sliding to the back of his neck, holding him closer, kissing him firmer, before he pulled away.

The breach between their faces stayed close, humid and warm with the mixing of their quickened breathes. And Mark could see the spread of Jinyoung’s smile, slow and beautiful, mirroring it with his own.

“Fearless enough?” Mark whispered, laughter stitched between his teeth.

Jinyoung released a wisp of a giggle, nodding. He licked his lips. “My turn.” And he leaned in, kissing him again.

And though Mark hadn’t been ready for it, he eagerly took it. Feeling Jinyoung’s hands grip at his hips, pushing him up against the pool wall. Those hands traveling slowly up his sides, dragging against his ribs and skin beneath the water.

Mark was dizzied by the contrast of cool and warm, feeling his legs weaken as his mouth fell open, giving a soft whine that Jinyoung licked into. Mark’s head continued to spin as his hands came up, gripping at Jinyoung’s neck and holding him closer, connecting the long line of their bodies. 

And there was far too much in it to not suggest where it was heading, but nevertheless, Jinyoung was the one to pull away, panting. Mouth and cheeks considerably pinker and pupils wider. “Do you want to dry off?” he breathed “And then, maybe we can-”

“Yes,” Mark cut him off.

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he shook his head. “I’ll follow your lead.”

Jinyoung's smile went twice as wide, as he went to the ledge, pulling himself up and out of the water.

Mark trailed close behind him, accepting the towel Jinyoung handed him and wiping down his hair, his chest, while not so discreeting looking over at Jinyoung, noticing how those red underwear had turned skin tight, not leaving anything to the imagination.

They both wrapped the towels around themselves as they carefully slid open the glass door, just enough to sneak through, tiptoeing over the wood floors towards the staircase. Jinyoung took Mark’s hand again as he padded up the stairs towards the bedroom. And Mark could feel the thrum of Jinyoung’s erratic pulse at his wrist, confirming that they were both feeling just as crazed.

Mark shut the bedroom door behind them, but as soon as he did, Jinyoung was there, drawing his face close in another starved kiss. Mark felt the grate of Jinyoung’s teeth as he nipped at his bottom lip, making him whine before shushing him, reminding him of Milo and Sunny asleep downstairs. 

Mark’s hands came up, squeezing around the soaked fabric at his hips before working his fingers into it to push it down and off his legs.

Jinyoung clumsily kicked them off, before pushing at Mark’s as well, letting them fall to the floor before he reached his hands around him and picked him up, carrying him over to the bed to lay him down. 

Mark lay on his back, looking at Jinyoung standing over him. Naked and glowing in the faint light. Watching as the man's hands painted down his chest, eyes raking over him, looking nearly pained as they took in the sight. 

“What?” Mark whispered, raising up onto his elbows.

Jinyoung sighed. “You’re just…” he licked his lips. “Impossible not to want.”

Mark felt the heat creep across his cheeks. He sat up, pulling Jinyoung closer to kiss him again. Feeling the slip of his hands down into his lap, brushing up against where he was already hard, sending a jolt up his spine.

Jinyoung pulled away as he fell to his knees at the bedside, kneeling between Mark’s legs as his hand closed up around his cock. Jerking him in slow, even movements.

And it hit Mark how long it had been when the pressure of Jinyoung’s hand alone felt too overwhelming, too good. So when the man opened his mouth, dragging the head against his fat shiny tongue, Mark nearly choked around the sound trapped up in his throat.

Jinyoung seemed to notice, smiling as his tongue lapped headily at the underside. Traveling down the shaft, just to kiss a path back up. And by then, there was a weighty bead of precum waiting for him. He traced his tongue over it, both them watching the glistening string stretch as he pulled off.

Mark’s hand found it’s way to the back of Jinyoung’s neck, trying to draw him in again.

But the man went stiff, not so easily coaxed. He looked up at Mark, a dangerous glint in his round eyes. “I thought you said you’d follow my lead?” he pouted.

Mark sighed, frustrated and turned on. “Lead me then,” he insisted.

Jinyoung stood up between Mark’s legs, fingers drawing up his jaw to kiss him again.

Mark could taste himself there on Jinyoung’s tongue, so perfectly mixed with his natural taste.

Jinyoung pulled away, smirk nearly sinister across his face. “Hey,” he kissed him again. “I have a proposal.”

Mark could already tell he was going to accept. “Tell me,” he panted.

His fingers toyed underneath his jaw. “You missed me, right?”

Mark stared up at him, entranced by his beauty. “More than anything.”

“And you want to see me?”

Mark nodded.

Jinyoung kissed him again. “I’m going to turn you away as I open you up. But don’t look back, okay?”

The breaths in Mark’s chest went wild, unpredictable. 

“If you don’t look back, I’ll fuck you face-to-face,” he smiled. “Would you like that?”

Mark gulped. He nodded.

“Me too,” he leaned in, kissing him once more, before he pushed at his chest, laying him flat against the bed. He grabbed at his hips, maneuvering him onto his stomach.

Mark willingly complied, pressing into the sheets before he hoisted himself up on all fours. Immediately feeling the urge to look over his shoulder, but restraining it. He heard the sound of Jinyoung opening the bedside drawer, knowing that he knew exactly what he was looking for. He heard the sound of the lube being uncapped, squeezed. And Mark waited, frozen in anticipation, feeling so vulnerable and exposed.

Jinyoung’s fingers went straight to his entrance, circling it with audible slickness. 

And Mark’s shoulder blades buckled together, holding back the groan as his hands tightened in the sheets, trying to find something to hold onto that wasn’t the sight of Jinyoung.

The fingers went teasingly slow to start, so light that Mark felt everything. But soon, Jinyoung was sinking a first finger into him.

Mark shuddered, leaning down until his face was pressed against the bed, fighting the overwhelming urge to watch, to cry out as that finger dragged against his tight muscles. Pressing into his walls to try and make room.

And just when the feeling started to ease, Jinyoung pressed another one into him, making his body arch towards the bed. The only thing in his vision were the stars in his eyes and the imagined picture of Jinyoung doing this to him.

Jinyoung’s fingers worked in tandem, careful and diligent and slow.

And Mark wasn’t quite sure if he was being teased or if Jinyoung was really just getting as much pleasure from doing this as Mark was from feeling it. But it didn’t even matter when all Mark could be consumed by was the heat racing up his spine, making his thoughts senseless. He hissed, burying his face into the sheets to muffle a whimper that he couldn’t keep in.

Mark felt Jinyoung’s fingers scissoring inside of him, feeling the stretch they left behind. “It’s enough,” he panted, eyes screwing shut as he turned his head. “Just fuck me, please.”

“Not yet,” Jinyoung murmured, voice warm and deep. “One more.”

Mark’s shoulders fell in disappointment. “Please,” he pleaded. “I want to see you.”

“Almost there,” he soothed. “Hold on, my love.”

The endearment made Mark’s ears go hot and it was enough to have him take a calming breath, trying to even the escalation.

But just as he did, Jinyoung worked the third finger into him and Mark felt like he might pass out. His knees wobbling against the mattress as Jinyoung worked those three fingers into him for a few deep thrusts before he was pulling them out, leaving Mark open and quivering.

“Look at me,” Jinyoung whispered.

Mark collected himself, glancing over his shoulder and seeing Jinyoung standing at the edge of the bed.

He was smiling, staring at Mark through half-lidded eyes as he coated his hard cock in lube.

Mark felt awe-struck by the way the memories, the imaginings, none of it could compare to him standing before him, looking back. 

Jinyoung slid onto the bed, holding out his hand. “Come here.”

Mark reached up, taking it and letting Jinyoung pull him closer, hoisting him into his lap. And Mark was perhaps so needy at this point that he himself lined Jinyoung up with his entrance and slid down onto him, feeling the immediate fullness again that had been left empty. His body and his house and his thoughts and his life. Relishing how only Jinyoung could fill them.

Jinyoung’s hands clutched at his hips, drawing him down even harder, greedier than gravity itself. His eyes fluttering and his mouth falling open. “Shit,” he cursed.

And Mark felt the smile press against his mouth as he finally got to watch Jinyoung unraveling underneath him. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to his lips before trailing more down his jaw, ears, neck. Licking at the mix of dewy sweat and pool water that was lingering there. Feeling the kick of Jinyoung’s hips grow fiercer.

Jinyoung set the pace, perhaps more brutal than Mark had expected and he was suddenly thankful for that third finger. But despite the quickness, Mark could feel the softness of Jinyoung’s tender hands skating up his back, feeling at his sharp shoulder blades, before smoothing back to his hips again. Touching every inch of his skin with such sincerest affections that Mark felt his chest ache.

Jinyoung’s hand grazed across Mark’s hip bone, grasping at his cock and pumping it with just as much force as the upwards slam of his hips.

Mark gasped, pulling off of Jinyoung’s neck and meeting his face again. Eyes screwing shut as he felt the inescapable rise of intensity accumulating deep inside him. 

“Hey,” Jinyoung breathed, his other hand touching Mark’s jaw. “Look at me.”

Mark opened his eyes, met with Jinyoung’s overwhelming beauty again, making his stomach sink even lower.

“I love you,” he said, smiling. “You know that, right?”

Mark felt himself falling apart. Too many things mixing together. Pleasure and longing and tenderness and devotion. And he knew that it was worth it, being fearless. That it would always be worth it if it meant he could keep Jinyoung’s eyes within his view, his pulse beneath his fingers, his voice echoing in his ears. He nodded.

Jinyoung smiled wider, mouth falling open as if to moan but he held it back. “You love me, don’t you?”

Mark licked his lips, he nodded. “Yeah,” he panted. “I really do.”

Jinyoung’s hand tightened up just enough, only needing to give Mark a few more thrusts before he was crumbling. Everything caving into Jinyoung as he spilled across his hand, their stomachs. So hard and so long that he watched as Jinyoung hit that same peak, eyes glazing over as his mouth fell impossibly open in a soundless moan. Their eyes so locked that if it had been anyone else, at any other time, Mark might have had to look away.

Jinyoung fell back against the headboard, eyes still fixated on Mark's as he stared up at him. Both of their smiles growing in tandem, before dissolving into blissful, breathy laughter.

Mark climbed off, settling next to him. Feeling suddenly overcome with a flicker of self-consciousness that had him burying his face into Jinyoung’s shoulder.

“Hey,” Jinyoung laughed, pulling his head away. “Don’t hide. No more hiding from me.”

Mark felt the ache in his chest, forcing himself to keep looking at him. To lean in and kiss him again. Sweet and tender and lingering before he pulled away.

Jinyoung watched him, breaths evening out. “Should I go get my pajamas?”

Mark shook his head. “No,” he said. “Wear mine.”

The man’s mouth spread in a brilliant smile. “Okay,” he nodded.

And they both got up, Mark tossing Jinyoung a shirt and shorts before grabbing them for himself. They pulled them on, crawling back into bed. Their arms reaching out to find each other in the sheets, pulling each other closer. Tangling together so perfectly.

Jinyoung looked into Mark’s face, pushing his hair back. Something heavy and unspoken in his eyes.

“What is it?” Mark whispered.

Jinyoung sighed. “I know there’s more to say,” he said. “But all I want to do right now is this.”

Mark felt his mouth tug into a smile. “What’s this?”

Jinyoung looked at him with such blatant tenderness, like he could see every detail even in the darkness. “See you. Feel you. Sleep wrapped up in you,” he whispered. “I missed this so much.”

Mark nodded. “I missed it, too.” He leaned forward kissing him. “Save the talking for tomorrow,” he said, settling into his shoulder. Murmuring into the soft cotton of his shirt. 

“Tonight, this is all we need.”


	19. Nineteen.

Mark didn’t dream that night. He didn’t need to. Reality was enough. Waking up itself felt like a dream when the bed felt so warm and comforting in a way it hadn’t in months. And as he slowly came to, ears starting to work properly, he heard the quiet murmuring. Hushed voices. Something in it that he couldn’t understand.

He cracked an eye open and then another, looking to his side. Jinyoung was laying on his back, hair disheveled and t-shirt askew. Face bright with a smile as Sunny sat in his lap. Her eyes fixated on him and their fingers intertwined as she spoke to him in whispers of Korean. And Jinyoung speaking back, the depth of his voice feeling like a warm caress against Mark’s face. Each of them looking so delighted as they spoke to each other.

And Mark didn’t move, didn’t make a sound, trying to just take in the moment. Letting it claw at his chest and make him feel all the things he’d withheld himself from feeling yesterday when Sunny and Jinyoung had reunited. Because it hadn’t felt safe to feel then, with so many unknowns in the way. But now, things felt so unequivocally certain in a way that Mark never knew they could be. So crystal clear. And feeling was now like a privilege that Mark had spent too long denying himself of.

Maybe the strength of those liberated emotions was too loud because Sunny looked over, noticing Mark’s stare.

She gasped. “He’s up,” she yelped. “Daddy’s up.” She let go of Jinyoung’s hands, crawling on top of her dad and collapsing onto his chest.

“Oof,” Mark huffed at the sudden weight. He wrapped his arms around her. “Yeah. I’m up,” he said, feeling her face nuzzling into his neck. He looked over to Jinyoung, seeing the soft smile pulling at his mouth as he watched on. He smiled too. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Jinyoung murmured, smile growing twice as wide and twice as beautiful as he admired them.

Sunny sat up in his lap. “What are we doing today?” she asked, excitedly. “Because maybe we can go to the park? Or the beach? Or the art museum? Or-”

“Sunny,” Mark groaned, rubbing at his sleepy eyes.

Jinyoung chuckled, getting out of bed before reaching out to grab her. “Come on, Sunny,” he said, hoisting her onto his hip. “Let’s go make some breakfast and let your dad wake up. And _then_ , we can talk about what we’ll do today.”

“Okay,” she said, slightly downtrodden as she let herself be carried from the room, looking back over Jinyoung’s shoulder towards Mark. “Hurry up, Dad!”

Mark watched them leave, looking down at the foot of the bed and seeing Milo curled up at his feet, watching him. He sat forward, giving the puppy’s ears a scratch as he heard the sounds of the two rummaging around in the kitchen to start cooking. His house feeling so different now, so much more alive. And it felt safe to let himself rouse slowly, stretching out his arms and looking over at the splash of green that caught his eye. The peace lily on the dresser. And he noticed that while it hadn’t flowered since Jinyoung had given it to him, it now had another pretty white teardrop shaped leaf standing proudly alongside the original one.

Mark wondered exactly when it had happened, but he couldn’t pinpoint it. He hadn’t been paying it much mind. But when he approached it, feeling at the waxy leaves, he could see that the soil was moist with fresh water that Jinyoung must have put into it that morning. And that alone elicited another soft smile.

When Mark came into the kitchen, Jinyoung and Sunny were already at the stove. Jinyoung was working on a pan of eggs while Sunny was holding a spatula, ready to flip another bubbling pancake.

Jinyoung looked up at him. “I hope you like scrambled,” he winced. “That’s all I can make.”

Mark was about to come up behind him, place a kiss on his neck, but he withheld. Ever so conscious of Sunny standing there and knowing that while she’d seen them sleep in the same bed, that was all she knew. “Scrambled is perfect,” he said, squeezing Jinyoung’s arm instead and going to sit at the table. He snapped his fingers, looking back. “Oh. Remember. For Sunny’s pancakes-”

“Blueberry,” Jinyoung nodded. “Don’t worry. I got it.” His bright eyes radiated pointed reassurance.

Mark’s shoulders sank with relief. “I know you do,” he breathed, taking a seat and feeling content watching them work side by side.

A few minutes later, breakfast was served. Mark cut into his pancakes, looking up at Sunny. “So, what _are_ we doing today?” he asked, taking a bite.

Sunny was shaking a bottle of Cholula over her eggs, tongue peaking out to concentrate. “When is Jinyoung leaving?” she asked, recapping it and passing it to Mark.

Mark’s eyes went wide as he nearly choked around his food, “Leaving?”

Sunny stopped, gaze tracing back and forth between them. “Isn’t he going back to Korea today?” she asked, voice small.

Mark swallowed his food. “I don’t know,” he leaned his elbows onto the table. “Jinyoung, are you going back today?”

Jinyoung shook his head. “No,” he laughed, focusing his eyes on Sunny and letting them fill with sincerity. “I am staying.”

Sunny’s mouth pulled up into a beaming smile as she stared back.

And it made Mark melt to see her brimming with excitement after months of forced smiles and distant eyes. “So then,” he asked, reaching for his coffee. “What does Sunny Bunny want to do?”

\---

Sunny ended up settling on the park, dragging both of them there to watch as she took every opportunity to jump off the swing set before running and doing it again. Milo staying at her side as she played. Mark and Jinyoung watched on from a park bench.

“So,” Mark murmured. “Last night.”

Jinyoung pursed his lips, looking over at him. “Last night.”

He felt the flutter of nerves in his stomach. “Did you… mean what you said?” he asked, softly.

Jinyoung watched him carefully. “About what?”

Mark shrugged. “Your plan. For all of us,” he cast his eyes back out to Sunny playing. “Is that what you really want?”

Jinyoung reached for Mark’s hand, interlocking their fingers and forcing his attention. Whole face looking so serious. Eyebrows drawn together and lips pressed tight as he studied Mark’s face. “Only if you do.”

Everything felt so wide open in the daylight. So overwhelming. “It’s a lot of changes.”

“I know,” Jinyoung nodded. “I know it is.” His voice losing momentum, falling off at the end. His grip going more slack, eyes defocusing.

Mark squeezed Jinyoung’s hand, watching him snap back into the moment. He held those seconds close. Relishing all that brightness trickling back into his gaze. “But maybe,” he offered. “Change is good.”

Jinyoung stared back, mouth falling open. Looking like he was hanging on the edge of a million questions. But not speaking any of them.

Mark nodded. “I think it could work.”

Jinyoung blinked, still full of shock. “All of it?”

“Yeah,” Mark smiled. “All of it.”

Jinyoung’s chest fell in a relieved breath. Eyes going even more lively like if Sunny hadn’t been there, he would have had nothing stopping him from leaning forward and kissing Mark. But instead, he restrained himself, saying it with his eyes instead. Biting down on his lip before he spoke, “You know what that means, right?”

“What?”

He shrugged. “School is almost nearly over,” he said. “We’d be going back to Korea in the coming weeks.”

Mark went quiet for a moment, realizing how soon it was. “True.”

“Would you be okay with that?” Jinyoung asked. His eyes cast down towards their interlocked hands, “Last time you went-”

“It won’t be like last time,” Mark stopped him. Not willing to go there. Because there was no use dwelling on the past anymore. “People will know about us. About her.”

Jinyoung’s eyes shot up. Catching on to what he was saying, but still falling back into that state of disbelief. “You want to release a statement.”

Mark smiled, shrugging. “We both want that, right?”

Jinyoung’s expression faltered, still balancing somewhere between his shock and his best effort to act composed. “Yeah,” he sputtered. “We could write something up. Run it past Bit.” He toyed with Mark’s fingers, fixating on them. “Would it make you uncomfortable?” he asked. “If I say I have a kid.”

Mark’s brows drew together. He shook his head, “Why would it?”

Jinyoung’s mouth pressed into a thin line. He looked back out over the playground, watching Sunny play. “I’m not her dad.”

Mark watched his profile, seeing all the love in his eyes that he couldn’t restrain for her. And knowing it was no different than the way Mark looked at her. No different from how Jackson and Jaebeom looked at Yugyeom and Bambam. No different. “You’re right,” he said. He leaned closer, speaking softly into his ear. “You’re not her dad,” he smiled. “You’re her appa.” 

Jinyoung’s expression shifted. Eyes widening as they met Mark’s. That questioning shock so much more vibrant now. So many layers of awe that his voice was too buried under to speak.

Mark felt the smile across his own face grow. He tried to tamper it, but it wouldn’t stop growing. Not unlike that gentle swell of his heart in his chest. He nodded, “Let’s tell her.”

Jinyoung blinked. “Mark,” he breathed.

“We should tell her the truth,” Mark urged. “Before we go to Korea. Before she finds out some other way.” He drew Jinyoung’s hand closer, up to his cheek and letting it rest there. “And then she can see your parents. And know who they are. Wouldn’t that be great?”

Jinyoung’s glazed eyes were glossy, tears welling up. But as soon as he blinked, he was letting his hand and his eyes fall away. Something tightening between his shoulder blades. “Let’s…” he struggled to get the words out. “Let's just wait a little longer.”

Mark studied him, seeing that sudden tension that had replaced the disbelief. He craned his head, trying to look into his face. “You’re nervous.”

“Of course I am,” Jinyoung nearly laughed, brushing away the tears in his eyes. 

“Why?” Mark asked. “You _know_ she’s going to love it.”

“You don’t know that,” Jinyoung shook his head. “You don’t know what kind of pent up resentment she has towards this person she’s never met.”

Mark scoffed. “Jinyoung, she’s _six._ Her pent up resentment is that I don’t let her have ice cream for dinner every night.”

Jinyoung tried not to laugh. He looked over, a soft smile pressing against his features. “Just let me process this,” he said. “It’s more than I expected.”

Mark’s chest ached at that gentle earnesty, the modest way he hadn’t seen it coming. He nodded. “When you’re ready,” he whispered. He looked back out at the playground. “I _should_ tell her we’re back together though. Don’t you think?”

Jinyoung reached out, putting a hand to his knee. “We should tell her together,” he said. “Everything together from now on.”

Mark met his dreamy eyes. Seeing how much he wanted this. And how it was so much more than simply wanting to be together. It was wanting to work together, to support each other. And it made every nerve in him flutter. “You’re right,” he said. He turned his head, calling out towards the playground, “Sunny! Come here!”

“What?” Jinyoung sat up straighter. “Now?”

“Yeah,” Mark laughed, leaning closer into him. “Is that okay?”

Jinyoung took a breath, grin slowly spreading. “Yeah,” he said softly. “That’s okay.”

Sunny came running up, sneakers crunching against the wood chips. “Yes?” she asked, her eyes moving between Jinyoung and Mark who were sitting closer together than when she had left.

“We have a question,” Mark said, leaning forward and taking her hand. “So, you remember when I said that Jinyoung wasn’t my boyfriend anymore?” 

Her face went nervous too quickly. She nodded.

“Do you remember why?”

She bit her lips, voice coming out small and shy. “Cause you had a fight that was too big? Cause there wasn’t a sorry big enough?”

“Right,” Mark nodded. He squeezed her hand. “Well, what if we found a sorry big enough?”

Her eyes went wider, looking over to Jinyoung who nodded. She blinked. “So, does this mean...” her voice trailed off.

Jinyoung put an arm around Mark, drawing him a little closer. “We want to be boyfriends again,” he said. “But we want to make sure that’s okay with you.”

Her face went nervous. She pulled away from Mark’s grip, taking a step back. “I…” she hesitated around the words. “I don’t want you to fight again.”

Mark’s shoulders sunk. Thinking of that later than maybe he should have. Because even if Jinyoung and him had made up, Sunny hadn’t seen any of it. She hadn’t seen the jump from one state of being to another. And so she didn’t understand why it wouldn’t simply happen again. “Sunny, come here,” he said, opening his arms.

She seemed timid as she stepped up to him.

He drew her into his lap. He sighed. “I don’t want us to fight either,” he said. “Now, I can’t promise we won’t fight again. Just like I can’t promise that you and me won’t fight again,” he tried to smile, not seeing it mirrored in her face. He reached up, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “But even if we fight, it doesn’t mean we will stop loving each other. And it doesn’t mean we won’t come back together.”

“But-” she fiddled her hands together. “What happened was… really bad.”

“I know,” Mark nodded. “And I’m sorry. We know how much it hurt you to see us fight like that. I know firsthand. And I’m sorry that I put that on you. Because it wasn’t your fault, Sunny,” he squeezed her closer. “Do you believe me?”

She looked at him, slowly nodding.

“But,” Jinyoung interjected. “We both promise it won’t be like that ever again. Because in the future, we will both make sure that you can talk to us and tell us how you feel. We promise that you’ll be able to see both of us. Because the last thing we want to do is hurt you.”

“That’s right,” Mark nodded. “We can’t promise we will be perfect, but we can promise to always try to be the best for you. We can promise to always be there for you. Because we love you so much. You know that, right?”

Sunny’s face still looked troubled, pulled between faith and distrust. But she took a small breath, maybe settling somewhere in the middle. “I love you, too,” she said softly. She looked to Jinyoung. “Both of you.”

Jinyoung smiled. “Come on,” he said. Widening his arms. “Big hug.”

And the three of them squished together, Sunny so sandwiched between Mark and Jinyoung’s chests that she started to laugh. “Dad! Jinyoung!” she whined, hands trying to get them to move. “Let me go!”

Mark laughed. “Okay,” he said. “We will let you go on one condition.”

“What?”

“Answer a question for me.”

“What question?”

Mark’s arms tightened. “Tell me you’ll do it first,” he smiled.

“Fine, fine,” she laughed. “I’ll answer. Now, let me go!”

Mark and Jinyoung pulled away, letting her gasping laughter pour outwards. Making both of them smile.

“What?” she asked, looking between them. “What’s the question?”

Mark bit his lips, momentarily glancing towards Jinyoung. “How does going back to Korea this summer sound?”

Sunny’s laughter died. Her eyes went wide, toothy grin matching it. “Really?”

\---

_“Over the past few weeks, I have been watching my brave community of actors and artists slowly come out with details about their private lives. All in a shared effort to dismantle the inherent bias of our entertainment industry. And while I have been quietly sending my support to those who have come out, I have decided that it is my turn to show my support publicly. In doing so, I would like to acknowledge that I am happily in a relationship and that I and my partner have a child together. The details of our family belong to us alone and I ask for continued privacy as we begin to acclimate to this changing landscape within this industry.”_

Jinyoung looked over the edge of his phone at Bit’s picture on the laptop screen that was sitting at the edge of the bed. It was another beautiful morning. Mark and Jinyoung were still in their pajamas as they sat in bed. Between them, a laptop sat. Bit shrouded in evening darkness, leaning her chin into her palm and she listened to Jinyoung finish reading.

“So,” Jinyoung started. “Will it do?”

Bit cleared her throat. “Short, sweet, and to the point,” she smiled tightly. “It will do.”

“What do you think, Bit?” Mark asked. “About all of this.”

She sighed, “I never thought I would say this, but I’m glad you’re doing this. Ninety-percent of my emails that last few weeks have been asking if you’d be next in this whole mess.”

“It’s not a mess, Bit,” Jinyoung rolled his eyes. “It’s a movement.”

She scoffed. “Whatever you want to call it,” she waved her hand. “It’s great for all your entertainment people, but think about us behind the scenes who are having to reinvent the Korean field of public relations to meet new demands.”

“And you will shift,” Jinyoung nodded. “And it will be a shift for the better.”

“Yeah, of course you’d say that,” she huffed, studying something on her screen. “Okay. The statement will be out tomorrow morning.”

“Great,” Jinyoung clapped. “What’s next?”

“We need to get you tickets to Korea,” Bit said, making a note. “Three, I assume?”

“Plus, a dog,” Mark piped in.

“There’s a dog?” Bit’s eyes widened. “Mark, I knew I liked you.” 

He scoffed, “Since when?” 

She looked up, taken aback. “What do you mean?” she asked. “I’ve always been warm with you.”

Mark laughed, “That’s what you call warm?”

Jinyoung sighed. “Forgive her,” he said. “She’s painfully Korean.”

“I’m going to make you painfully remember that when you’re back here.”

“I miss you, too,” Jinyoung smiled. “Now, back to business.” 

“Alright,” she looked back down at her notes. “When are you looking to book those for?”

Mark looked to Jinyoung, gauging his reaction. “Next week should be enough time to get everything ready here,” he nodded.

“I think so,” he agreed. “And remember,” he told Bit. “We are going to be looking for new apartments when we get there.”

“Oh, finally,” she groaned. “You’re moving out of that tiny box of yours.”

“It was a nice tiny box,” Jinyoung defended. “But it wasn’t made for a family. The next one will be.” He looked over to Mark, smiling.

Mark felt his heart swell with admiration.

“I know a great realtor,” Bit said, typing. “I’ll reach out to her. She’ll find you exactly what you are looking for.”

“Are you talking about your ex?” Jinyoung asked. “Don’t tell me you two are back together _again_?”

“No way,” she scoffed. “After this past time, she and I are over for good. I’ve made a promise to myself.”

“Finally,” Jinyoung said. He covered his mouth, whispering to Mark. “Her ex was the worst.”

“I heard that.”

Mark rolled his eyes. “Bit,” he spoke up. “Thank you for all your help. We really appreciate it. _I_ really appreciate it.”

She stopped, looking up. “Of course, Mark,” she nearly smiled. “I appreciate you and Haeseon making my client happy.”

\---

A few days later, Mark sat on the couch, watching as Jinyoung paced the living room floor. He’d been doing so for the past ten minutes. The stark morning light flooding in through the backyard, illuminating the man’s face that was pulled tight in nervous thought, fingers tugging at his lips.

“Are you ready?” Mark asked.

“Hmm?” Jinyoung pulled himself from his pensiveness. He blinked. “Sorry. I was just...” his words trailed off, like maybe he forgot what he was doing in the first place.

“Hey,” Mark stood up, reaching out to draw him closer. “If you don’t want to do this now, it’s okay. I don’t want you to think I’m forcing your hand.”

“No,” Jinyoung shook his head. “I don’t think that.” He took an uneasy breath. “I _do_ want to do this. I’m just…” he paused, brows pulled tight. He sighed. “It’s a really big deal.”

“I know it is,” Mark nodded, bringing him closer and hugging him tightly. “How can I help?”

A breath left Jinyoung’s chest as he burrowed his face into Mark’s shoulder. His shoulders gave a nervous tremble that Mark tried to soothe with the brush of his hands. His voice small when he spoke. “Do you think I’m ready?”

Mark felt himself smile. “Jinyoung,” he said, pulling away to look in his face. Seeing the apprehension in his wide eyes. Knowing the concern was so unquestionably Jinyoung, the nearly excessive amount of care he put into everything. His hand curled under his jaw, trying to ground his full attention away from those petulant anxieties and onto him. “You’ve been ready for a long time. I was the one who needed to be ready. But I am now.”

Mark looked into his eyes, seeing how he tried to read him. That same curiosity that had always been there. So painfully similar to that of Sunny’s. But no longer painful in the same way it had been at the start. Now it was painfully beautiful, the way in which Mark’s love could be so wrapped up in these two parts of the same whole. And the feeling alone had something warm and excitable thrumming through him so hard that all he could do to relieve it was pull Jinyoung’s mouth closer and kiss him.

Jinyoung’s shoulders fell, everything in him softening between Mark’s arms. Lips warm and pulling up at the edges against Mark’s mouth. And when he pulled away, his eyes were bright and his smile wide. As if something as simple as a kiss could rid him of those anxious thoughts. He nodded, “Okay.”

Mark pulled away from him. “Sunny,” he called towards the hall. “Baby. Can you come out here?”

Her bedroom door opened and the sound of her feet against the floor grew closer as the breath in Jinyoung’s chest grew wider. Mark looked over, seeing her standing in the doorway, leaning into the wall. Her eyes wide, slightly nervous. “Am I in trouble?” she asked, voice small.

“Of course not,” Mark shook his head. “We just wanted to talk to you.”

She shifted, nearly hiding. “Is this bad news?”

“No,” Mark smiled, feeling Milo jump up onto the couch and settle into his lap. “No, Sunny. It’s good news.”

Sunny looked more curious, stepping forward. “Then, tell me.”

Mark looked up to Jinyoung, seeing the way he stayed fixated on Sunny. The man swallowed down any of those lingering nerves. “Come here, baby,” he waved. 

Sunny’s steps were slow, hesitant as she came forward.

Jinyoung squatted to her level, looking up at her with that same look of tenderness Mark had admired in him before. “Tell me the story,” he smiled softly. “Of how your dad adopted you.”

Sunny’s face was still slightly timid as she started to speak, saying the words like she always did. That script she kept repeating the same way she’d been told countless times. “Daddy didn’t make me,” she said. “But he wanted a baby. To love and take care of. So he tried to find the best baby for him. It took him a long time but one day, I was born. And the people who made me wanted me to have the best daddy, so they gave me to Dad. And he took care of me every day after that.”

“That’s right,” Jinyoung nodded. “But Sunny,” he swept her hair over her shoulder. “Did you ever think about who made you? What they were like?”

She stared at him, face going blank. Thinking.

“Come here,” Jinyoung said, scooping her up into his arms. He carried her over to the entryway mirror, shifting her until they were both able to see into it. “Who do you see?”

Mark watched from over the edge of the couch, burying his face into his arms. Feeling the pull of his heart in his chest. Milo pawing at him to elicit head scratches.

She blinked, looking at their reflections. “Sunny and Jinyoung.”

Jinyoung smiled. “Me too,” he nodded. “Look at your pretty hair,” he said, reaching up to touch it. “It’s black. Just like mine, right?”

“Mhmm,” she hummed, her smile slowly growing as she stared into the mirror.

“And look at your smile,” he said. “Look at this dimple,” he poked her right cheek. “It’s just like mine, see?” he reached up, smiling goofily and pointing to his own.

“Yeah,” Sunny laughed. “It is.”

“And look at these lines by your eyes when you laugh,” he reached up, softly pinching them between his fingers. “Do you see them?”

Sunny gasped. “You have those too!” she laughed, looking up at him.

“That’s right,” Jinyoung smiled. “And what about these?” He pointed to her eyes. “What color are your eyes?”

“Brown,” she said, surely.

“What about mine?” he asked, widening his own as he looked at her. “Can you see?”

She reached up, holding his eyes open to look inside. “Yours are brown, too,” she smiled.

“Oh, you’re right,” he said, looking in the mirror at them. He looked down to her. “Sometimes, people look like their parents, right? Do you look like your dad?”

Sunny laughed, shaking her head. “Of course not.”

“Why not?”

“Cause dad didn’t _make_ me.”

“Yet, you look like me, right?” Jinyoung watched her.

Mark’s stomach knotted up tight, watching in quiet anticipation from his place on the couch.

Sunny’s eyes went blank, her smile stale. She blinked. “Yeah,” she said softly. Quiet. Thinking again.

Jinyoung pulled her away from the mirror, taking her over to the couch and sitting her down. He knelt in front of her, holding both of her hands in his and squeezing them tightly. Staring up into her pensive face. “Sunny,” he said. “I made you.”

She blinked, eyebrows tilting upward. “What?”

Jinyoung exhaled slowly, getting comfortable as he firmly held her hands. “Well,” he started. “A long time ago, before you can remember, me and a nice woman made you. But we knew that we couldn’t be the best parents for you. And we wanted you to have the best daddy ever. So when you were born, the woman decided to give you to your dad because she knew that he would love you more than anything.”

Sunny stared at him, expression trapped up in confusion. “Did you…” she tried to find the words. “Did you know me? When I was a baby?”

“No,” Jinyoung shook his head. “I never got to meet you. And that made me very sad because I _really_ wanted to.”

“But you’re here?” she asked. “Now. With me.”

“I am,” he nodded, the corners of his mouth pulling ever so slightly. “I came all the way from Korea to meet you. And as soon as I saw you, I loved you so much that I knew I never wanted to leave.” He looked over to Mark, eyes brightening. “Your dad was so kind to me and he saw how much I loved you, so he let me stay here with you and help take care of you.”

Sunny spoke up, voice still hushed with puzzlement. “But then,” she looked over at her dad. “You both became boyfriends.”

“We did,” Jinyoung smiled, still looking at Mark. “Because I fell in love with him, too.”

Mark felt the ache of love squeezing like a firm grip around his heart. Wanting to kiss him again. Wanting to kiss Sunny too. Wanting them both to stay in his line of sight, happy and smiling and gentle, always. Knowing there wasn’t anything he wanted more. Anything he feared enough to keep him from making sure that’s how it would always be.

“You made me?” Sunny asked, still looking dazed. “Really?”

Jinyoung looked back at her. His smile going twice as wide. “Yeah,” he said. “I really did.” And even the way he said it sounded like some wonderful admission that he’d been wanting to make for a long time.

Sunny looked to her dad, the question in her eyes.

“It’s true, baby,” Mark laughed. “He’s telling the truth.”

“But then…” she went quiet, brows knitted together. “I have... two dads?”

Mark shrugged. “That depends,” he said. “What do you think a dad is?”

Sunny’s face went serious, considering for a long moment. “Someone who takes care of you,” she said, finding confidence. “Who loves you. Helps you. Plays with you. Not just some times. All the time.”

Mark smiled, feeling warm all over. “And what about Jinyoung?” he asked, beckoning towards him. “Has he done those things? For you?” he looked down into his lap. “For Milo, too?” he smiled at the happy dog.

Sunny looked to the man, face still quizzical. “Yeah,” she whispered. “He has.”

“Well,” Mark said, eyes finding Jinyoung’s. Both carrying a levity that Mark hadn’t expected they would back when this conversation felt far off and difficult. “I guess you have two dads then.”

Sunny’s eyes went wider. “Like Yugyeom and Bambam?”

Mark nodded, “Pretty much.”

Jinyoung squeezed her hands again. “How does that feel?” he asked, studying her.

Sunny considered again. “Different,” she finally said. “But good, I think.”

“You can talk to us,” Jinyoung encouraged. “If you have questions or anything, you can always talk to us. You know that, right?”

Sunny nodded, “I know.”

“And you know we love you, right?” Jinyoung smiled, looking up into her face. “So much. More than anything.”

Sunny wore the smallest of smiles. “I know,” she huffed, but even in the next moment, there was something in her eyes that was still pensive.

Jinyoung reached up, holding her face in his hands. “Hey. What is it?” he whispered. “What are you thinking so hard about?”

Sunny bit at her lips. Taking a deep breath. “What do I call you now?”

And in the bright morning light, Mark could see. Not even the sun could eclipse Jinyoung’s smile.

\---

Later that week, Jinyoung and Mark sat next to Jackson and Jaebeom as they watched the first graders shyly walk across the stage to receive their graduation certificates. All of them fiddling with their papers as Youngjae gave a heartwarming speech about the growth and development of the class the past year and how blessed he felt to have taught them.

And when Jinyoung looked over, Mark realized that his vision was blurring with tears. He blinked, wiping at them with a grimace. “Oh my god,” he whispered. “Why am I crying?”

Jinyoung smiled, leaning closer and wiping at the corner of Mark’s eye. “Today, first grade. Tomorrow, high school.”

“Don’t,” Mark said flatly. “I can’t even begin to think about that.”

“Really?” Jinyoung laughed, whispering in his ear. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Mark met his eyes, seeing the sincerity there that took his breath away. Feeling himself go so warm he thought he might melt in his seat and have to be peeled off the floor. He hit Jinyoung’s leg. “Pay attention,” he chided, looking back up to the stage. But even when he did, he felt Jinyoung’s hand grab his and intertwine their fingers.

After the ceremony, Jaebeom was busy taking pictures of the golden trio while Mark watched from afar. Feeling a tap on his shoulder. He looked over, seeing Youngjae at his side.

“Hey,” Mark smiled. “Good job up there. With your speech and all.”

“Thanks,” Youngjae nodded. “It’s been a good year.”

Mark’s eyebrows drew up. “A crazy year,” he sighed. “That’s for sure.”

Youngjae smiled, something knowing in it. “It’s good to see Jinyoung here.”

And Mark expected to see some lingering bitterness in his face or maybe hear it bleeding through his tone, but was pleasantly surprised when all he saw was timid support. An olive branch being extended. He felt himself smile softly, “I agree.” He looked over, seeing Jinyoung kissing Sunny’s cheek for a picture as she laughed.

Youngjae shifted between his feet, “So is he…”

“Yeah,” Mark nodded. “He’s back.”

Youngjae smiled. “That’s good,” he offered, slightly awkward but still just as charming as he always was. “Good for Sunny. And you too, I guess.” He bit his lip, shrugging, “Jinyoung seems like a really good guy. And I’m really happy you found something more with him than just him being Sunny’s biodad. You deserve to be happy with someone you love.”

Mark smiled again, looking down to his feet. “I appreciate that,” he said, eyes drawing back up.

“Just… you know,” Youngjae smirked, something more bold in it. “If you have any single friends…” he shrugged.

Mark looked at him, expression going blank as he thought for a moment. He took a breath, “When will you be in Korea next?”

After the ceremony wrapped up, Mark found himself on Jaebeom and Jackson’s deck. The sun setting and leaving the sky beautifully warm as he watched Jinyoung play zombie with the three kids and one dog who ran across the lawn to try and escape from his loving clutches.

“So,” Jackson said, breaking the pleasant silence between the three of them. “I might have seen an article this week about a certain Korean actor coming out with some certain news.”

Mark huffed. “Of course you did,” he rolled his eyes. “Stalker.”

“It’s been a week,” Jaebeom said, leaning his chin onto his hand. “Jinyoung is still here.”

Mark nodded, “He is staying.”

Jaebeom’s eyebrows raised, “Forever?”

“Well,” Mark shrugged. “We are going to spend summer in Korea from now on.”

“Aww,” Jackson smiled, looking over to Jaebeom. “We can visit when we are there.”

“Yeah,” Jaebeom said, throwing an arm around his husband. “We can.” He looked back over to Mark. “You know,” he started, hesitant with his words. “You’re acting extremely cool about all of this change.”

“I don’t want to live without him,” Mark said, nearly to himself. “Neither does Sunny.”

“Does she…” Jaebeom’s words trailed off, holding a big question in them.

“Yeah,” Mark nodded. “We told her.”

Jackson leaned across the table, eyes going wide, “Is she okay?” 

“How did she react?” Jaebeom’s brows knitting together in concern.

From the lawn, they heard the cackling laughter. Mark looking over to see Jinyoung tickling Sunny into the grass. Her body curling up as she tried to push him away with her hands and feet. Milo yapping and tugging at Jinyoung’s pant leg. “Appa, stop!” she giggled. “Okay, okay! You got me!”

And Mark could feel the smile on his face when he looked back to Jackson and Jaebeom, quirking a brow like it answered their questions.

They both sat back with a sigh. Jackson clearing his throat, “Well, I guess it’s all better now, huh?” 

“No,” Mark shook his head. “It’s not all better. I’m still not the easiest person to be with. I’m still stubborn and petty. I hold grudges. I let things fester until they explode.” He looked out to the yard at Jinyoung narrowly dodging Bam’s touch. “And he’s still equally petty, short sighted at times, inexperienced, habitually evasive unless I nail him down,” he huffed. “But we know that about each other. And we don’t hold it against one another. He cuts through all of my bad habits and encourages me to be better. And I do the same for him. And we need that. We need each other.”

He felt Jackson and Jaebeom’s round eyes on him. Looking over to see them staring. Silent and soft.

Mark sighed. “We can’t dwell on the things we can’t change. Not when there is so much good. Not when we both need to be strong for Sunny,” he nodded. “We both made mistakes. We both hurt. We both decided that we’d stitch each other up. Not just this time but every time. Because isn’t that what you said, Jackson? That you come together and you figure it out?”

Jackson smiled. “Yeah,” he said, cuddling into Jaebeom’s side. “I did say that.”

“Well,” Mark pulled the long sleeves of his sweater over his hands, feeling a sudden chill in the twilight air. “I’m taking it to heart.” And he looked back towards the lawn, seeing a panting Jinyoung looking up at him. A euphoric smile pressed across his face. And Mark couldn’t help but mirror it.

\---

They spent the next week getting everything ready. Making lists and packing things up and cleaning out the fridge and rationing exactly how many toys Sunny could take with her. Jinyoung promising her that they had more toys in Korea that he could buy for her.

When the day finally came, they packed up their bags in Mark’s mother’s car and she drove them to the airport. Jinyoung was helping Sunny with her carseat and putting Milo in his carrier as Mark unloaded bags from the back of the car. His mother came around, leaning up against a tail light.

“Thank you for driving us,” Mark said, tossing his backpack over his shoulder.

“Of course,” she nodded, folding her arms over her chest. “Are you sure you have everything?”

Mark shrugged, “Nothing we can’t live without for the summer.”

Her brows drew together, looking slightly apprehensive. “Four months is a long time, Mark.”

And Mark couldn’t help but smile. “It’s only the beginning.”

His mother smiled slightly, looking down to her shoes before looking back up at him. “You know you can come home, right?” she said, quietly. “If things aren’t okay.”

“I know,” Mark nodded. “But I don’t want to run away again. There’s no courage in running. There’s courage in staying. In trying. That’s what I want Sunny to learn.”

Her eyes went softer. Catching a sheen of the midday light with a sudden mistiness of tears. 

“Mom,” Mark whined, smiling as he came closer to touch her shoulder. “What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Her face tightened as she tried to swallow down the tears. “I’m just proud of you,” she choked out. “And I’m happy for you.”

Mark sighed, drawing her in for a tight hug. Feeling her hold her breath, her tears as she did. Trying to keep his own from welling up. “You know you can visit us, right?” he whispered.

She patted his back. “Get settled,” she said, sniffling and pulling away. “Then, maybe we’ll talk about visiting.”

He looked at her, seeing all it took for her to muster a hopeful smile. Because certainly this move, this shift, meant just as much to her. “I love you,” he told her, trying not to make it sound like a consolation.

She nodded. “I love you too, my son.”

Jinyoung came around the edge of the car, starting to grab bags as Sunny ran up. “I love you, Grandma,” she said, throwing her arms around her middle and looking up at her with a wide smile.

She looked like she might start crying again as she reached down, pushing Sunny’s bangs from her face. “My precious baby,” she cooed. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“I’ll miss you, too,” she said, resting her chin against her. “I promise to call you every day and tell you what I did,” she smiled. “But I need to go. I need to see my other grandma and grandpa.”

Mark’s mother sighed, eyes a little sad. “Yes, you do,” she said, rubbing a hand down her back. “You have to go have new adventures this summer. See the world. Where are you from. Okay?”

Sunny nodded, squeezing her tighter before backing away and standing close to Mark.

“Jinyoung,” Mark’s mother called.

He froze, putting the dog carrier down on the curb. “Yes?” he looked to her, a thin cord of timidness bundled tight around him.

“Come here,” she beckoned him closer. But when he stepped up, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, hugging him tight. And Mark could see the way her eyes tightly closed as she clutched him. “Take care of them,” she said. “Cherish them.”

Jinyoung seemed slightly shocked as he slowly put his arms around her, feeling out the unfamiliar embrace. “I will,” he murmured back. “I promise.”

Mark’s arm tightened around Sunny as he watched, warmth seeping through him at the sight.

Mark’s mother pulled away, looking between the both of them. “Call me when you land,” she nodded.

“We will!” Sunny piped up. “I promise!”

\---

**One month later.**

When Mark awoke, it wasn’t to the alarm he had prepared on his phone. Instead, it was to the sound of the bedroom door opening, still a little too creaky from the remodeled apartment they were still settling into. He blinked, looking up with unadjusted eyes and seeing nothing but a silhouette in the black vastness of the room. 

“Jinyoung?” he called out, throat rough.

“It’s just me, my love,” the man’s voice rolled over him, warm and soft, as he came closer, more into focus, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Mark rubbed the sleep from his eyes, “What time is it?”

Jinyoung looked at the watch on his wrist. “Around six,” he said, taking it off and tossing it onto the bedside table.

Mark’s eyes squinted over to the window, confirming the overcast lavender of the clouds awaiting sunrise. He groaned, stretching his arms, “I need to be up in an hour.”

“Why?” Jinyoung kicked off his shoes.

Mark sighed. “I got her a bunch of birthday decorations yesterday while she was in her Korean lesson,” he said. “I was going to hang them in the living room before she got up. That is if I can keep Milo away from them. He’s had a penchant for paper recently.”

“I’ve noticed,” Jinyouns huffed. “It was awfully suspicious for me to have to request another script from set.”

Mark scratched at his bare chest, shrugging, “He’s your dog.”

“He’s _our_ dog,” Jinyoung emphasized as he crawled onto the bed, sitting himself in Mark’s lap.

Mark looked at him, more in focus as his eyes had adjusted now. Still wearing what he’d left for set with a few hours before Mark had gone to sleep. “Shouldn’t you be getting some rest?” he asked, hands absentmindedly rubbing at his thighs. “You had a long night. And Sunny’s party today is going to be a lot.”

“I don’t care,” Jinyoung shook his head, leaning his palms against the sheets and bringing his face closer. “I’m awake now.”

And the way he said, warm and cunning, went straight through Mark. Making everything from his ears to his hips feel warm, seeping even deeper. “Seems like awake doesn’t just mean awake,” he said, his hands going up to hold Jinyoung’s jaw, sliding down his neck. “God, you’re so warm.”

“It’s a warm summer night,” Jinyoung smirked, leaning down to place a kiss on Mark’s cheek. Murmuring near his ear. “Especially when I was thinking about you the whole ride home. Thinking about this view.”

Mark felt the smile growing across his face. “What view?”

Jinyoung placed another kiss at his jaw. “New apartment, new bed,” he kissed below his ear. “Same me, same you, same… well.” His hand slipped down Mark’s body, feeling the hard length in his shorts that even Mark hadn’t been conscious of until it was brushed against, making his hips rise instinctually. Jinyoung pulled away, wearing a smug smirk. “Same reaction.”

Mark hissed. “You’re so…”

“What?” Jinyoung chuckled, dark and low. “What am I?”

Mark’s hands went into his shirt, tightening in fistfuls. “Frustrating,” he gritted through his teeth.

Jinyoung’s smirk only got wider. “Good,” he said, eyebrow quirking ever so slightly. “All the better to get what I want.”

Mark was so conscious of the lack of touch now. The simple meeting of their hips that was the only point of contact. Yet every closely murmured word Jinyoung said elicited the same reaction, the same smoothing of nerve endings that typically his hands would have. He bit his lip, looking up at him, “What do you want?”

Jinyoung sighed, dramatically. “I’ve had a long day at work,” he shrugged. “And all I want is for you to take care of me.” His lower lip went stiff, pouty. “Can you do that?”

Mark’s hands tightened even further, like he was readying to rip him apart. “Like no one else can,” he taunted.

Jinyoung rushed to kiss him, immediately strong and powerful and licking into his mouth like he really had been thinking about this the whole ride home. 

And Mark didn’t hesitate to reciprocate the same fierceness. Tasting those mints that craft service offered on Jinyoung’s set. And they were sweet and refreshing, much like the cool draft from the aircon kicking on again in the background, like it too had sensed the surge of temperature in the room.

Mark’s fingers went to the buttons of Jinyoung’s shirt, undoing them down his chest before letting the shirt hang open. His hands brushing at the skin there where it felt so warm and smooth and comfortingly familiar. 

Jinyoung’s hips rolled down onto him, shifting that hard line of Mark’s body up against his own that was straining through his dress pants. And he kept kissing him, kept grinding himself down against Mark. Both of them feeling the sensation heighten a little more each time he did.

Mark’s own hips started moving in unison, trying to relieve that call for pressure, for friction, whatever way he could. And as he did, he failed to notice the increasingly desperate sounds of his throat. What started as heavy pants, falling with the meeting of their hips, turned louder, higher in Jinyoung’s mouth.

Jinyoung bit Mark’s lip, tugging it. “A whiny mess without even touching you,” he held that lip between his teeth before letting it snap back. “It’s hard to believe I’m the one who wanted this.”

“Shut up,” Mark groaned, pushing his shirt off his shoulders.

“Or what?” Jinyoung laughed, a huff of breath against Mark’s mouth. “Huh?”

Mark grabbed him under his thighs, flipping the two of them. Hearing the small gasp in Jinyoung’s throat as he spread him across the duvet. And immediately, his hand trailed down Jinyoung’s body, bypassing that hard cock pressing up against his zipper and instead, rubbing his fingertips roughly against the man’s entrance through the fabric. Bearing down the grip of his fingers and seeing the way it made the man squirm against the bed, leveraging his hips up. Mark huffed, “I bet I could get you off through these pants.”

Jinyoung’s moan got trapped up in his breath as he writhed. “Just take them off, Mark,” he nearly pleaded.

Mark felt the smirk spread across his face. “What happened to ‘my love’?” he asked, sweetly.

Jinyoung leaned up on his forearms, staring him down. “I asked you to take care of me, not tease me,” he bit out.

Mark licked his lips, drawing his fingers away. “Fine,” he surrendered, reaching for the buckle of Jinyoung’s belt. Feeling that length of his upturned cock pressing up against it so hard, it looked like it hurt. And even in undoing the belt, Mark’s fingers were brushing up against the tip, making Jinyoung gasp and cave. Mark undid his pants, pulling everything off of him in one go and letting him gleam naked in the hint of imminent sunrise. 

Jinyoung sat up, going to the headboard and placing his hands against it. Looking over his shoulder at Mark with a look that incited him to continue where he left off.

Mark’s fingers trailed down his straight spine, feeling the shudder under his skin before he made his way down to his entrance. He took his time pressing those fingertips down, circling them slowly. Drawing out every small movement. “Is this what you want?” he asked, kneeling behind him and kissing his shoulder.

“Fuck,” Jinyoung cursed, fingers bearing down harder on the headboard. “That’s so good,” he breathed. “Don’t stop.”

Mark leaned over to the bedside table, grabbing the lube they’d unpacked just a few days ago and squeezing it into his fingers. He returned them, circling again and feeling the mix of slickness and skin. He slowly started to sink a finger into Jinyoung, seeing the way his shoulder blades drew together and kissing where they met as he kept pushing down to the knuckle. He worked into him, feeling like, at this point, inside of him was just as much a home as in his arms was. 

He slid another finger in, letting them work in tandem to open him up. Softly sucking at the juncture of his neck and shoulder with just enough careful precision to not leave a mark. Because they were getting better at that, living in Korea. 

As Jinyoung loosened up, Mark started to swirl those fingers in wider circles, curling them up into the man and feeling the way it made him tremble. 

“M-Mark,” he eventually stuttered out. “Let me have it. Before I-” His body gave a tremble, teeth grinding together to ground himself. To resist.

Mark’s smile brightened as he felt the shake of his body. He whispered close to his ear, “Are you going to come?” 

Jinyoung didn’t look back, he just nodded slowly. Everything in him tight and holding on.

Mark didn’t mean to laugh but he still did, something sweet and tender in it. “Then, come,” he said, kissing at the quivering knot in his spine. “I’ll just make you come again.”

And with that, Jinyoung’s shoulders dropped. His breath shuddering out of him as he started to let go. 

Mark’s hand went to his cock, gripping it firm around the tip and catching every bit of that cum in his hand until he was sure that the slump of Jinyoung’s body back on his haunches meant he was done. He worked it in his hand, feeling the stringy texture spread across his fingers, the back of his knuckles, his palm.

He watched Jinyoung sitting on his feet, catching his breath, before raising those fingers to his mouth.

Jinyoung looked at him, eyes round and gleaming in the softened light. He opened his mouth, letting Mark drag a finger across his tongue.

Mark smiled at the sight, pulling his hand away and returning it to Jinyoung’s entrance. Working that same finger into him and then adding another. Leveraging that cum back into him.

Jinyoung’s back stiffened, arching and wincing at how sensitive he was. Gripping his hands into the sheets.

Mark felt how slick his hole was, a mixture of lube and cum seeping out of him. He swallowed, trying to keep his voice even as he asked, “Do you want me to fuck it into you?”

Jinyoung looked up at him, eyes heavy with want and exasperation. He nodded.

Mark sat behind him, the perfect vantage point to see the curve of his waist into his hips. He put his hands there, drawing Jinyoung back onto him. Sliding right into him and feeling the squelch of that mixture welcome him in. And it took all Mark had to stay firm and strong despite just wanting to fall apart.

He leaned up against Jinyoung’s back, holding himself inside. His hands snaking up Jinyoung’s chest as he whispered into his ear, “You talked a big game for someone who just came from getting opened up.”

Jinyoung’s teeth gritted together, jaw clenching tight when he spoke. “You’re the one who promised I’d come again,” he bit out. “Get on with it.”

Mark felt the wild ferociousness of Jinyoung’s tone, his words seeping through him, making him grin as he started to thrust his hips up into Jinyoung. His hand coming down to wrap around the man’s cock, stroking him languidly. 

And even just the touch against his sensitive nerves had Jinyoung nearly yelling. His mouth falling open in a silent gape before he recollected himself, leaning his head back against Mark’s shoulder and speaking his words into the air. “One of these days,” he panted, dreamy smile spreading across his face. “I’m going to take you to some fancy hotel. And we are going to make as much noise as we want.”

Mark huffed, thrusting into him. “I’ll hold you to that,” he whispered, planting a kiss on his neck before increasing the speed of his hand, his hips. Everything feeling so dangerously good with the wetness of Jinyoung’s dripping hole coupled with the slickness of his own hand against the man’s cock, distantly wondering if it ever even softened after his first climax. 

“Oh, god,” Jinyoung choked out. He sat back onto Mark’s cock, adjusting the angle. “Right there. Oh, fuck,” he hissed.

Mark quivered, the slight shift feeling just as good for him. He squeezed his hand around Jinyoung’s cock again, feeling it throb. “The first time you made me come you cursed in Korean,” he murmured. “Now, only English? Have I changed you?”

Jinyoung met his eyes, expression shining brightly in the dark. “Why?” he grinned. “Do you want me to curse for you in Korean?”

Mark kicked his hips up harder. “Try it,” he dared.

Jinyoung’s hand reached up, looping around Mark’s nape and drawing him downwards until his lips were brushing at the skin of his ear. He started to murmur foreign words against the shell of it. Breath hot and accent drawled, something even warmer and deeper about his voice when he spoke like this.

Mark felt his brows knit together as the collecting pressure started to feel like it might overflow. He dragged Jinyoung’s hips quicker with one hand as the other pumped against his cock with vivid intensity. Everything suddenly feeling too powerful to contain as the words rushed together in Mark’s ears, getting higher, shakier, whimpered.

Mark was taken aback when he felt the second spread of Jinyoung’s warm cum against his fingers, his knuckles, seeping down the back of his hand. Everything about it so wonderfully lewd that it had his arms wrapping around Jinyoung, holding him tight as he pounded deeply into him. The pressure combusting and flooding out of every nerve, every pore in one inexplicable wave that went from his head to his toes as he came hard with a groan.

And even when his body had given all it could, he still couldn’t help but hold Jinyoung just as tightly. Both of their dewed skins brushing as they caught their breaths.

Mark panted, forehead leaning onto Jinyoung’s shoulder. “What were you saying?” he asked.

And he could hear the smile in Jinyoung’s wisp of laughter as the man twisted towards him, gripping his hands under Mark’s chin and raising it to meet his eyes. Eyes even brighter now. “Just that you’re the love of my life,” he grinned. “And I can’t wait to do this with you for the rest of my days.”

Mark felt the heat tip his ears, completely unrelated to the sex. He smiled. “You made it sound a whole lot spicier than that,” he joked.

Jinyoung laughed. “It still worked, didn’t it?” he said, reaching a hand down to brush his knuckles up Mark’s cock.

Mark’s body squirmed with sensitivity. “Ah, stop,” he protested, pushing his hand away. “Enough.”

A loud, piercing series of beats, roughly in some sort of melody blasted through the room, jolting both of their shoulders. Mark looked over to his phone lighting up on the bedside table, the alarm across his screen.

“Fuck,” he groaned, leaning over to turn it off. But as soon as he turned back, Jinyoung was collapsing into the sheets and pulling the duvet over himself. “What are you doing?” Mark asked.

“Can we sleep?” Jinyoung begged, making room for Mark next to him.. “Even just an hour more? I want to sleep with you.”

Mark looked at him, the sudden poutiness in his expression drawing a completely different but equally positive feeling from him. “Jinyoung,” he sighed. “You’re the one who needs sleep.”

“With _you_ ,” he protested. “We both have a big day ahead of us.”

And Mark couldn’t deny him anymore. He got under the covers with him, cuddling closer. “Seven years old,” he said, voice full of awe. “Can you even believe it?”

Jinyoung huffed, drawing him closer. “It’s a big day,” he said. “My first birthday with her. You meeting my parents.” He paused, studying his face. “Are you scared?”

“What’s there to be scared about?” Mark grinned. “My Korean is poor enough that I can just rely on your translations to make me look good, right?”

Jinyoung tried to suppress the smile growing across his face, licking his lips. “I hope you don’t pick it up,” he said. “So me and Sunny can talk shit about you.”

Mark rolled his eyes. “Okay, now I _will_ learn it,” he said. “And not just those few phrases you and Sunny taught me for your parents.”

Jinyoung smiled even harder, looking at his face from top to bottom. “They are going to love you,” he said softly. “Just like they love Sunny.”

Mark stared into his eyes, seeing everything he loved in him. Drawing in a breath. “Thank you.”

The man’s eyebrows twitched together. “For what?”

Mark smiled, hand coming up to cradle his face. “Opening up my world. Showing me how big and wonderful it can be.”

Jinyoung mirrored that smile, fingers coming up to curl around Mark’s hip and draw him closer until their bodies became one long line. “Thank you,” he offered, voice hushed and close.

“For?” Mark asked, licking his lips.

“Being my world,” he whispered. “You and Sunny both.”

Mark’s heart squeezed tight in his chest, constricted by the overwhelming emotion that was thrumming through him. More powerful than anything he’d ever felt. He smiled, hand pulling the man’s face closer.

Jinyoung took in a breath, murmuring nearly against Mark’s mouth. “I love you,” he said. “So much.”

Mark only had four words to say before he sealed their mouths together.

“I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue to follow.


	20. Twenty.

**Twelve years later.**

Yugyeom decided almost immediately that he didn’t like wearing suits. He wasn’t used to wearing anything so formal and slim fitting. Anything that had needed so many specific odds and ends tucked together. So he couldn’t stop tugging at it as he straightened the outfit in his bedroom mirror. Trying to find some sort of comfort in the tightness of the cuffs, the tapered line of the pants, the squeak of the shoes, but there was nothing comfortable about it. And he had a passing regret that he’d let Bambam pick this one out at the rental store, even if Yugyeom had firmly declined the pastel blue first choice and opted for something classically black. 

He tried to find that comfort in anything else about his appearance. Running his fingers through his hair to lay it down smoothly against his forehead, seeing the light brown spot buried within the black from the time Bambam had jokingly tried to put a highlight in his hair while he was asleep. He studied his face, still the same as he always looked despite the unsettling get up. Thankful that his skin had been clear that day, but nevertheless, there was still that instinct to run and hide. To never have to be seen because he wasn’t one to stand out. To raise his voice. To take a stand. That hadn’t ever really been him. And a change of outfit wasn’t going to fix that.

“The man of the hour,” said a voice behind him.

And when he raised his eyes in the mirror, he saw Bambam standing in the doorway, staring through the lens of his camera. He was wearing a bold three piece red velvet tuxedo with a plethora of gold chains in place of a tie.

“Here, we have my brother getting ready for what he hopes to be the greatest night of his uneventful eighteen years on this planet.”

Yugyeom’s shoulders fell with a sigh. “Please tell me you aren’t live right now.”

Bambam smiled, coming closer with slow enough steps to keep the camera steady. “Not live, just vlogging,” he said. “Tis the season for prom vlogs.”

Yugyeom turned back towards the mirror, straightening the suit once again. “Shall I ask the comment section then?” he motioned down to his outfit. “How did I do?”

When he looked up at his brother, Bambam was stopped, looking over the camera with a quizzically raised brow. “Who taught you how to tie a tie?” 

Yugyeom felt himself shrink back, hands going up to touch at the silk knot at his throat. “Appa,” he murmured.

Bambam huffed. “Well, that was your first mistake,” he turned off the camera, setting it down on the bed, and going to his brother.

“Is it bad?” Yugyeom asked as Bambam pushed at his shoulders to turn him.

“It looks like a frog who got a knot in his tongue,” Bambam said. His eyebrows drew together in thick concentration as he began retying it. And when he finally let go, it lay smoother than it had before. “There,” he breathed, looking up into Yugyeom’s face with a smile. “What would you do without me?”

“Probably not just be known at school and on the internet as ‘Bambam’s brother’.”

Bambam smirked, “Yeah, instead you’d be known as Sunny’s best friend.” 

“You know, I’d prefer that.”

“Well, good,” he said, turning back to pick up his camera. “Cause tonight you won’t be my brother. You’ll be Sunny’s date. So good luck hiding that big gross crush you have on her for a full night.”

Yugyeom felt the flutter of butterflies at the thought. Sunny and him walking hand in hand down the beach at the resort that the prom was being held at. And maybe it would be dark except for the lights shining from the resort and the music would be a distant sound getting lost in the waves. And maybe he would be able to pull her close and look in her big brown eyes and finally say the words. Tell her exactly the way he felt for her. Let go of that breath he felt like he’d been holding onto for an eternity.

Maybe he’d thought about this too many times to count.

Bambam scoffed aloud, “I mean I don’t even get it. What do you even like about her?” His face twisted up in disgust, “She’s practically your sister.”

“Everything,” Yugyeom smiled, dreamily. “She’s friendly and she’s funny. She’s smart. She speaks three languages.”

“So do you.”

“But she does it better,” Yugyeom argued. “And she’s pretty. Like really really pretty. Even when she isn’t trying to be.” 

“Uh,” Bambam groaned. “Please don’t hit me with the ‘she’s not like other girls’.”

Yugyeom shrugged. “I mean other girls are cool. But they aren’t Sunny. She’s different. She’s perfect.”

“She’s hardly perfect,” Bam rolled his eyes.

Yugyeom glared at him. “Well, she’s perfect for me,” he said with finality. “And tonight,” he looked off, getting lost in thought. “Tonight is the beginning of the rest of our lives.”

Bambam’s tone cut through the daydream, just as sharp as his words. “Don’t kid yourself, bro. It’s senior prom. Not your wedding,” he leaned onto one foot, eyes narrowing. “Plus, do you really think she asked you to be her date because she’s in love with you?”

Yugyeom blinked, feeling small again. Mind racing. “Why else would she have asked me?” he asked, voice weak.

“I don’t know. Because you’re her best friend? Plenty of people go with their best friend.”

Yugyeom felt his shoulders slump at the realization. That maybe he had blown this out of proportion. Maybe there was nothing in the way that Sunny called him up a week ago and asked him to go. Maybe all these frivolous little daydreams were nothing more than that. And the brush with reality had him wanting to turn around and throw his forehead through the mirror.

“Woah,” Bambam’s eyes widened. “Don’t look at me like I just threw away half your bug collection.”

“I just don’t get it,” he groaned. “Senior year was supposed to be my last chance at telling her how I feel. I’m going off to Florida in the fall and she’s committed to Yonsei and pretty soon, we will be on opposite sides of the world.” He started to pace the carpet of his room, “And it’s not like I haven’t tried. I’ve tried _everything._ I’ve asked her out-”

“Okay,” Bambam held up both hands to stop him. “Asking her to get ice cream is hardly asking her out when you two hang out all time anyway.”

“But I offered for us to split _one_ milkshake,” Yugyeom argued. “I never do that. I always get my own. Because I like mint chocolate chip and she doesn’t, but I-”

“Didn’t she start dating Emma again like literally the next day?”

Yugyeom hated the sound of that name. He hated most of all that it wasn’t his. “Yeah,” he sighed. “And then a few months later, they broke up again, right? And I knew she was sad about it. So I got her those march fly earrings to cheer her up.”

“Uhuh,” Bambam said absentmindedly as he went closer to the mirror, running fingers through his slick hair and adjusting the chains at his neck.

“ _March. Flies,_ ” Yugyeom emphasized, coming up behind him. “Bambam. They are LOVE bugs.”

“Yugyeom,” he groaned, turning back towards him. “ _Literally_ no one would know that except you.”

Yugyeom felt like a bottomless pit, opening up to new depths. “I’m hopeless,” he murmured, sinking down onto the edge of the bed. “I’m hopeless. This night is hopeless. Everything is…” he paused for a moment. “I should just stay home,” he sighed, hands going to his tie to loosen it.

“Bro,” Bambam reached forward, batting his hands away before leaning both of his palms against the black shoulders of the suit. “Look. All of us are a week away from graduating high school. And you and Sunny are like _ten days_ away from leaving for your backpacking trip across Asia. Your literal last hurrah before you both are over seven thousand miles away from each other for the next four years.” He took a deep breath. “Now, if you really want to do that trip as ‘more than just friends’,” he air quoted with his fingers. “You need to be direct and tell her that you’ve wanted to be her boyfriend literally since you learned what one was.”

Yugyeom looked up at him, feeling that hopelessness just sink lower into the pit of his stomach. Because if this was all up to Yugyeom needing to speak, to say the words, to make himself known. Well, then he was truly screwed. He shook his head, “I wish this could be as easy as it was for you and Reyes. You both are literally perfect together.”

“Oh,” Bambam stood up straighter. “I forgot to tell you. I’m breaking up with them tonight.”

Yugyeom’s face fell, “What?”

“Yeah,” Bambam winced. “I mean we are graduating in a week. I’m spending the summer in that content creator house in the Hills and no one there has a non-influencer significant other.”

Yugyeom blinked, stunned. “I swear if you weren’t going to be a half hour away, Appa and Baba would have _never_ agreed to let you live in a place where the only criteria is that you have a million followers and a clean STD test.”

“Some of us have jobs, Yugyeom,” Bambam smiled tightly. “We can’t just spend all summer galavanting across an entire continent with the person we’ve been pining over since middle school.”

Yugyeom sighed again, feeling the tightness of his collar more than ever. “Speaking of,” he murmured, looking at his watch. “Where is she?”

Bambam scoffed, “You know her and her dads are always late.”

“Which is why I told her to be here a half hour before we were supposed to be ready.”

Suddenly, the chime of the doorbell rang through the whole house and Yugyeom’s eyes went wide as he stared at his brother. A look of pleading in his eyes. Like he wanted this whole night to be over before it even began.

But Bambam just pat his shoulder with a genuine smile. “Good luck, brother,” he offered, tone serious. “And remember. Be direct.”

Yugyeom felt the crawl of nerves under his suit jacket. “Thanks, bro,” he breathed. “I know we don’t say it enough, but ...I love you.”

Bambam rolled his eyes. “Don’t get sappy on me now,” he laughed. “Go on,” he pushed him towards the door. “Go get her. I’m going to grab an extra memory card.”

Yugyeom’s dress shoes suddenly felt heavier as he tried to drag them towards the staircase, every step down only raising those nerves higher and higher until he could nearly feel the tingle of them on his tongue. He was almost to the bottom of the staircase when a voice spoke out.

“Stop. Don’t come closer.”

Yugyeom paused at the sound of Sunny’s voice coming from just around the corner of the staircase. Making his anxious pulse peak for a moment. “Why?” he asked.

“Just,” he heard her take a deep breath. “You can’t make fun of me, okay?”

His eyebrows furrowed, “Why would I?”

“Because I look like a Christmas tree.”

“What?”

Sunny groaned. “I didn’t have anything I could wear so I asked my cousin if I could borrow a dress,” she explained. “She dropped this one off while I was at school, but she didn’t tell me it was a green monstrosity.”

Yugyeom bit at the smile across his lips as he listened. And when he spoke, he tried to keep that smile out of his voice. “I’m sure it’s not that bad,” he soothed. “Just let me see it.”

“You have to promise you won’t laugh,” she said, voice serious. “Not like that time my Appa cut my bangs too short.”

Yugyeom huffed at the sudden memory of Sunny’s choppy bangs sticking up from her forehead. How she’d tried to wear a headband for a month to hide them. He shook his head, “I’m still shocked at how confident Uncle Jinyoung was going into that.”

“Yugyeom,” she warned.

“Fine,” he shook the image away. He stood his ground. “I’m ready. I won’t even smile.”

Sunny took a deep breath as she rounded the corner. A wince across her face. Her long black hair in waves down her shoulders. Her dress an emerald silk that cascaded down her frame, pulling tight across her waist and chest before flowing freely. Thin straps tied up her back and a slit cut up to her thigh.

“Yugyeom,” she stomped her gold heeled sandal. “You said you wouldn’t smile,” she whined.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Yugyeom shook his head, hand going up to cover his unconscious grin. “It’s just…” he tried to find the words. “You look great.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t flatter me. We’ve known each other too long to-”

“I’m serious,” he pushed her shoulder. “You look…” he looked her up and down, feeling himself go warmer. “Pretty. Like a supermodel.”

Sunny’s pink glossed mouth spread into an unwilling smile. “You’re one to talk,” she laughed, motioning to him. “Look at you!”

“Me?”

“Yeah,” she tucked her hair behind her ear. “Who would have known that there was a total hunk under the husk of a weirdo.”

Yugyeom felt himself going immediately red. “Stop it.”

“Come on,” she laughed, reaching for his hand and holding it high. “Do a twirl for me.”

Yugyeom rolled his eyes, letting himself spin slowly on the toe of his shoe, ducking under her arms.

“Brava,” Jackson cheered as he came into the room, clapping his hands. “See? Already dancing the night away,” he leaned against the edge of the staircase. 

“Sunny,” Jaebeom gasped, slinging his arm around his husband’s shoulder. “Looking beautiful. As always.”

“Thank you,” she grinned. 

“Where’re your dads?” Jaebeom asked.

She shrugged, “They just dropped me off. They are going out for a date night.”

“Aw,” Jackson cooed. “Good for them.”

“My appa’s idea,” Sunny crossed her arms over her chest. “Because he knew my dad would be up late anxiously waiting to get a call about me in jail if he didn’t. You should have heard him before I left. ‘Sunny, I was a teenager once. I know the type of recklessness that one thinks they can get away with on prom night.’”

“Please,” Jackson scoffed. “Your dad doesn’t have a reckless bone in his body.” 

“Unless you count Uncle Jinyoung’s!” Bambam shouted, coming down the staircase.

“Ew,” Sunny’s face tightened. “Can we not? Please?”

“Admit it, Sunny,” Bambam shrugged. “You’re going to miss me making jokes about your hot dads when you move to Korea.”

“What about us?” Jackson whined. “Are we not hot enough dads to make jokes about?”

“No,” Bambam shook his head. “You're _my dads._ That’s just weird.”

Jackson pouted, “But-”

“Don’t try and make sense of him, Baba,” Yugyeom sighed. “There isn’t enough time in the universe to unpack him.”

“Speaking of time,” Sunny checked her phone. “Shouldn’t we be heading out? We are going to hit rush hour traffic trying to get to the coast.”

“You’re right,” Yugyeom nodded. “Baba, Appa. Have a good night. Don’t wait up for us.”

“Be safe,” Jackson called out. “If you drink, call us to drive, okay?”

“And take lots of pictures!” Jaebeom added. “And have fun!”

\---

The ballroom was loud. Far too loud. And lights were dimmed except the flashing technicolors bouncing off the smoke emitting from the DJ’s set up. The dance floor itself was crowded with dressed up high schoolers all jumping and swaying to the beat. Varying levels of enthusiasm across all their faces.

From Yugyeom’s seat at one of the tables, he could see Bambam and Reyes huddled close. Smiling and speaking into each other’s ears as they moved to the electronic song on the speakers. They looked so happy that it was hard to imagine that Bambam had really been keen to break it off tonight. And Yugyeom couldn’t help but feel a pinch of pity for Reyes, wondering if they even saw it coming.

“This is so stupid,” Sunny groaned next to him.

Yugyeom looked over, seeing her holding her chin in her hands as she looked over the crowd with a bored expression. “What do you mean?” he asked.

She blew a piece of hair from her face. “I mean if our classmates wanted a bunch of sweaty teenagers grinding up against each other, they’d all play soccer.” 

Yugyeom smiled, leaning closer. “This is the last night that we might be able to do this kind of stuff,” he shrugged. “Shouldn’t they be making the most of it.”

Sunny’s eyes went distant, staring back towards the dance floor again. “Yeah,” she murmured. “Our last night.” 

Yugyeom waved a hand in front of her face. “Earth to Sunny,” he said, trying to follow the line of her gaze. “What are you even staring at?”

She sighed, rising to her feet. “Come on, Yugyeom,” she said. “Let’s make the most of it.”

He blinked up at her, “What?”

“Come on,” she encouraged. “It’s a dance. We should... dance.”

Yugyeom felt the flutter of his butterflies rise up again as he followed her out to the dance floor, his eyes tracing the path left by the flicker of emerald silk as she walked. Everything getting louder, warmer, denser as they found their way to the middle of the crowd.

Sunny had no problem immediately starting to sway to the beat of the music, shifting between her feet as she wore a pleasant smile across her face. Expectant eyes watching Yugyeom.

He felt the nerves well up, suddenly feeling overly conscious and warm on his cheeks as he tried to do the same. Following her rhythm but feeling totally out of his element. Wondering if anyone was looking at them and wondering what they were thinking. And it made his motions feel even more stiff and awkward.

Sunny laughed, grabbing his arm and drawing him closer to talk in his ear. “Is that how you are going to dance when we go to the clubs in Thailand?”

Yugyeom felt the smile creep across his face along with a deeper flush. “What’s wrong with it?” he asked. 

She stepped back, shaking her arms out. “Just loosen up,” she yelled. “Come on.”

Yugyeom looked in her eyes, seeing the room fall away. The volume of the music, the smell of sweat, all of it dying as he focused on her eyes and her smile and her encouragements. He mirrored her moves, letting his limbs swing a bit more relaxed. Feeling the pulse of the beat overcome him.

“Yeah! There you go,” Sunny cheered. “Now, when you find some gorgeous Japanese girl in Tokyo, you can do this,” she reached forward, grabbing both of his arms and pulling him closer. She put his hands at her waist, letting her arms hang around his neck as she continued to move. 

Yugyeom felt the soft, coolness of the silk under his fingers. The tightness of her waist. Her sudden closeness and the faint whiff of her shampoo. All of it making his head feel like it was exploding. Overpowering his body as he struggled to keep up with the beat over the rush of intrusive thoughts. About how pretty she was and how nice she felt and the smallest of urges to draw her even closer. And it all paralyzed him.

Sunny only took a moment before she looked up into his face. “What?”

“Nothing,” he swallowed. “Just. Dancing. It’s fun. With you.”

She smiled, something warm and summery in it. “It’s fun with you too, Yugyeom.” But her eyes were only there a second more before they were looking away, fixated on something across the room. She pulled her hands away, taking a sudden step back to make space between them.

Yugyeom felt the absence of her rush in, hating it. “What is-”

“I’m going to grab a drink,” she said, only flicking her eyes over for a moment. “I’ll…I’ll be back in a second.”

Yugyeom watched her cut through the crowd, the flutter of her dress in her wake, but he didn’t follow it this time. Instead, he was just left standing there, alone and frozen on the dance floor. And when his eyes couldn’t track her anymore, he resigned himself to finding the nearest wall to lean up against. He surveyed the room, trying to find her, but there was no trace. 

After fifteen minutes, his mind was reeling with possibilities. _Maybe the line is long,_ he tried to tell himself, but it didn’t feel right. When he checked his watch again, it had been twenty. He sighed, deciding that he should go find her. He peeled himself from the wall, starting to search the groups of people dancing or at tables.

It didn’t take him too long to find Bambam and Reyes kissing on the dance floor.

“Hey,” Yugyeom shouted, pulling at his brother’s shoulder.

Bambam scowled at him. “What?” he scoffed. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”

“Have you seen Sunny?”

His face stayed tight, staring at him. “She didn’t tell you?”

Yugyeom felt a sinking that was already primed for disappointment. “Tell me what?” he breathed.

Bambam’s bite wore into his bottom lip, face unsettled and pensive. “She left,” he finally said.

“What?” Yugyeom’s mouth fell open. “Where did she-

“I think it was an afterparty,” Bambam shrugged. He shook his head. “I don’t know. She was with Emma.”

Yugyeom thought he’d been primed for disappointment but nothing could have prepared him for that. He felt everything pulled by the sudden increase in gravity, dragging everything down and incapacitating him. Taking the words from his mouth.

Bambam could read all of it. “I’m sorry, bro,” he winced, reaching out to pat his shoulder. “Like I said, she’s not perfect.”

And yeah, it fucking sucked. To imagine that was who Sunny had been stopped by across the room. The person who had pulled her away. Who had always been pulling her away. But this was prom night. And she came with him. And something about it, maybe the bass of the music rattling his thoughts or the tightness of his collar making him not get enough air, had him determined to not let this go. To have the night he had planned to have.

“Text me the address,” he told Bam.

His brother’s eyes widened. “You’re going after her?” he asked, a smile growing across his face.

Yugyeom took a deep breath. “You’re the one who said I need to be direct,” he offered.

“Wow,” Bambam beamed. “If she won’t date you, I will.”

Yugyeom’s face tightened up in disgust, “That’s gross, Bam.”

“We’re adopted.”

“Still.”

“You’ve known Sunny longer.”

Yugyeom scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Just send me the address, would you?” he said as he turned and cut through the crowd toward the exit.

\---

Yugyeom was probably driving too fast down the highway back towards the inland town. The traffic had eased as the night had fallen, leaving enough room for him to push the pedal a little more than he typically would. He was playing some loud rock album over the speakers that had him only further amped up as he came closer to the exit. And he was nearly there when he suddenly felt the rattle of his car. His grip on the wheel going unsteady as he swerved slightly into the lanes on either side of him. His instincts took hold as he put his foot to the brake, slowing down and pulling himself over onto the edge of the road. He put the car in park, looking frantically at his dashboard for some kind of indicator light, but he couldn’t see anything blinking back at him.

He got out of the car, rounding it’s edge and seeing the problem immediately. A flat tire.

“Fuck,” he hissed, kicking it with his foot only to feel the sharp pang of metal travel up his leg. “Damn it,” he whined. “Tonight? Really?”

He took a moment, wondering if this was some sick sign from the universe that he was wasting his time, before he saw the flicker of headlights pulling up behind him. He looked over, squinting his eyes at the car coming to a stop. _If I’m lucky, it’s a murderer,_ he thought to himself.

He heard the slamming of car doors, seeing two figures walking up in the glare of the headlights.

“Yugyeom?” one of them called out. “Is that you?”

He blinked, watching them come into focus. His chest caving at the sight.

“Hi, Uncle Mark,” he smiled weakly. “Uncle Jinyoung.”

Mark’s face was pulled in tight confusion as he tilted his head. “Is Sunny with you?”

“Oh,” his hand flew up, fiddling with the hair on the back of his neck nervously. “No, actually.”

Mark looked over to Jinyoung momentarily. “Well,” his eyes widened. “Where is she?”

Yugyeom opened his mouth, struggling with the words. “We were just heading to a friend’s house,” he rushed to say. “She rode with other friends. But... I guess I got a flat.” He looked down at it, feeling like maybe him and the deflated rubber weren’t so different.

“We can call someone for you,” Mark offered, reaching into his pocket to grab his phone.

“Nonsense,” Jinyoung reached up, pulling the phone from his hand. “I can change it.”

Mark rolled his eyes. “Just cause you did it in a drama-”

Jinyoung scoffed. “Ye of little faith,” he smirked, pulling off his jacket. “Hold this.”

A few minutes later, Jinyoung was diligently working as Mark and Yugyeom sat on the guard rail leading towards the exit. The sounds and lights of the passing highway filling the stiff and quiet air between them as they watched Jinyoung from a distance. Both of their arms crossed tight over their chests.

“So,” Mark broke the silence. “You said you were going to a friend’s house? Which friend?”

Yugyeom bit at the inside of his cheek. “Emma.”

“Oh. Her,” Mark nodded slowly. Pausing for a long moment before speaking a little softer. “Are they… together again?”

Yugyeom shook his head, “I’m not sure.”

“Well,” Mark’s shoulders drew up. “It’s her personal life, but Emma’s not exactly my first choice.”

“Oh, trust me,” Yugyeom huffed, nearly under his breath. “She’s not mine either.”

Mark looked over, a curious glint in his eyes. “Who is?”

Yugyeom went silent, biting his lips shut and staring back at him with wide eyes. His stomach churning with unnerving anxiety.

“Look,” Mark sighed, looking back towards Jinyoung working. “I don’t know Emma all too well, but something tells me that Sunny likes her a little more than she likes Sunny.”

“Mmm,” Yugyeom hummed. “You would be correct.”

Mark was quiet, thinking. Finding his words. “Sunny’s a smart girl,” he finally said. “But she can be headstrong. Persistent to a fault. Unwilling to back down from a challenge. Even if the challenge is a person.”

“Yeah,” Yugyeom sighed. “I know.”

“I have found that there’s two kinds of love,” he said, arms tightening. “The love you need to fight for and love you need to let go.”

“Like you and Uncle Jinyoung versus you and Mr. Choi,” Yugyeom smiled.

Mark’s head snapped towards him, brows creased in surprise, “How did you-”

Yugyeom laughed, shrugged, “Baba still thinks you were an idiot for not choosing Mr. Choi.”

Mark huffed, “Of course, he does.” He looked out towards the road. “But yes,” he nodded. “Jinyoung was the one I fought for. That I still fight for. Every day. Because that’s what a relationship is.”

Yugyeom watched as Jinyoung worked, watched him wipe the sweat across his brow, leaving a dirty streak behind. Not able to remember the time before Jinyoung was in all of their lives. Not just because it was long ago but because it was so far removed from how he saw Sunny’s family. “Is it worth it?” he asked. “Fighting every day?”

“Of course,” Mark said, a smile in his voice. “I love him,” he admitted simply, like they were the easiest words in the world. “And it will be worth it for you, too.”

Yugyeom looked over at him, eyes going twice as wide. “What do you mean?” he asked, a layer of sudden panic itching underneath his jacket.

Mark looked over, that small, earnest smile pressed against his mouth. “I just mean _when_ you find that person,” he shrugged. “Or, you know, when they… figure out which person is worth fighting for.”

Yugyeom felt far too hot, wishing desperately that he could take his jacket off but being too paralyzed by the anxiety that had him digging his fingers into the metal of the barricade until his knuckles were white. “Mr. Tuan,” he stood up, tone and title going too formal to not warrant some kind of suspicion. “I don’t-”

“Done,” Jinyoung chirped, jumping to his feet. He brushed his hands together. “Good as new.”

“Damn, baby,” Mark got up, coming closer to him. “A little grease looks good on you,” he laughed, licking his thumb and rubbing it against his partner’s blackened cheek.

“Stop,” Jinyoung pouted, pushing him away. He looked up. “What are you going to do, Yugyeom?”

He felt the breath he was holding in his chest. Big and wide and full of Mark’s unsaid words, unsaid encouragements. His own unsaid confessions. And he was suddenly overwhelmed with the deep belief that the flat hadn’t been the universe’s sign to give up, but instead a sign to push forward. To fight. To go.

“I’m going to get Sunny,” he breathed. “I’m going to bring her home.”

When he looked over, Mark was smiling, his fingers feeling at Jinyoung’s hip. “Thank you, Yugyeom,” he nodded, a sureness in his eyes. “I know I can always trust you to bring her home.”

\---

When Yugyeom pulled up to Emma’s house, he could hear the bass through his car windows. He looked over at the house that had teenagers looming on the front porch smoking, red cups in their hands. He took a deep breath, trying to remember why he was here. Trying to keep the mission in mind.

He got out of the car, padding up the front path and weaving past the watchful eyes of those at the door. He went into the house, seeing a few dozen people inside. The air smelled like beer and the lights were turned so low that he had to squint his eyes as they panned the crowd, looking for Sunny. But much like the prom, he couldn’t find her.

His eyes finally landed on a group of people playing beer pong on the back deck. He cut across the house, hearing a passing _“Is that Bambam’s brother?” “No, that’s Sunny’s friend.”_ that he didn’t even register, too focused on a familiar face.

He came up to the table, fists balling together. “Emma,” he called, firmly.

The girl looked up from her game, her eyebrow tilting upward. She wasn’t wearing anything formal anymore, but instead, casual clothes. A hint of stiffened hair and glittery makeup still visible in the porch light. “Oh,” she spoke, tone full of insincerity. “Yugyeom. I didn’t remember inviting you.”

He tried to speak through the gnashing of his teeth. “Where’s Sunny?”

The corner of her mouth drew up as she huffed. “How would I know?”

“Cause she came here with you.” 

The girl rolled her eyes. “I think I saw her heading outside,” she said dismissively, lining up a shot with her ping pong ball. She tossed it, sinking it into the other team’s cup before clapping and cheering.

Yugyeom scoffed, turning to leave.

“Oh and Yugyeom,” she stopped him. “Would you give her this? She left it in my room.” And she went to a lawn chair next to her, pulling out a long line of emerald silk fabric and tossing it to him.

Yugyeom caught it haphazardly, staring down at it in his hands. Feeling a new level of shock take over everything. But when he raised his eyes again, Emma wasn’t paying him any attention. Instead focusing on wrapping her arm around the shoulder of a girl and whispering in her ear as she motioned to the table.

Yugyeom’s fingers gripped into the fabric as he felt bitter words fill his mouth. But he knew they’d be wasted if spoken, so instead, he turned on the heel of his dress shoe, stalking back through the house and out to the front yard again. Looking for Sunny among the people on the porch but not finding her until a wayward person who Yugyeom didn’t even recognize from their school pointed a shaky finger towards the street.

Yugyeom looked over, seeing Sunny’s small frame hunched on the curb, a red plastic cup next to her. His feet quickening over the cool grass as he approached her. And even from a small distance, he could see the small shake of her shoulders. The tremble of her body. He wrung the dress between his hands before taking a seat next to her.

Sunny hurried to wipe away her eyes with the sleeve of the hoodie she was wearing, but even in the streetlight, Yugyeom could notice the faint black track of makeup under her eyes.

“Hey,” she looked over at him, voice rough. She smiled. “There you are.”

Yugyeom couldn’t return the smile, couldn’t do anything but keep looking over her face, feeling the ache of empathy in his chest. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she shook her head, swallowing down the remnants of tears. “I’m okay,” she said, but there was nothing reassuring in it as she reached down, grabbing the red plastic cup and downing the rest of its contents in one go.

Yugyeom looked down at her hoodie, her sweatpants, her bare feet against the asphalt. “Are those Emma’s clothes?” 

Sunny looked down at herself. “Oh yeah,” she sniffed. “I just borrowed them on my way out.”

And Yugyeom didn’t need the details to piece any of it together. He felt that ache growing deeper, wearing between his brows. He leaned closer. “Let me take you home,” he whispered.

Sunny looked at him, that same pained smile. “I don’t want to go home,” she shook her head. “Not yet.”

Yugyeom took a deep breath. He stood up, extending a hand towards her. “How about some food then?”

Sunny’s smile broke again, something more sincere in it this time. “I’m starving.”

“Then, let’s go,” he said, grabbing her and pulling her up.

A short drive later, they were leaning up against the back of Yugyeom’s car, half eaten In-N-Out burgers between their hands.

“So,” Yugyeom started, taking a generous sip of his chocolate milkshake. “You and Emma.”

Sunny’s grip on her burger went a little tighter, looking down at it like maybe she’d lost her appetite. “There is no me and Emma,” she admitted, not meeting his eyes. “Not after tonight.”

Yugyeom watched her, seeing the sadness welling up in her again. “Then why did you do it?” he asked. “Why did you leave with her?”

Sunny sighed, wrapping her burger up and putting it on the back of the car. “I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Maybe because it’s the last night that I could.” She looked up at him, eyes catching the streetlight. “That’s what you said, right? That this is our last chance to have this moment together.”

Yugyeom’s shoulders sunk, knowing that wasn’t what he’d meant. He hadn’t meant it for Sunny and Emma. He’d meant it for Sunny and… he sighed. Thinking that maybe that didn’t matter anymore.

Sunny licked her lips. “I’m ready for it to be over.”

“What to be over?”

“High school,” she said. “Classes, sports, test scores, living with my dads. I mean I love them, but at the same time, I’m just so done with the same stupid social circles with the same shallow people.”

Yugyeom stared at her, hearing the bitter emphatic tone she used. Knowing she really meant it. Wondering if that meant-

“Not you, Yugyeom,” she corrected. “Or Bambam. I couldn’t leave you both even if I tried,” she smiled before looking off into the night sky, hugging her arms tightly around herself. “I’m just ready to get out of here. See the world. You know?”

And Yugyeom saw all of that in her. That she wanted more than just the easy, superficial life that their classmates led. And that she, more than anyone he knew, had the potential to be more than that. Whether it was her intelligence or her perspective or that unbridled hopefulness for a bigger, greater, richer world. Sunny wanted a life that she couldn’t quite envision but could imagine the way it would make her feel. The confidence and independence and curiosity she’d be allowed to wield without the pressures of society stopping her. And most importantly, Yugyeom knew she was truly deserving of that life she dreamed of. 

But any contagious hopefulness he felt was extinguished by the biting idea that maybe, even in a way she didn’t see, he was part of this past, this town she was trying so hard to leave. Maybe, just like everyone here, she had grown out of him too. “Yeah, I know,” he said, hanging his head.

“Jeez,” she huffed, pushing his shoulder. “You don’t have to look so gutted about it. I mean you are going off to Florida. You’re going to become the coolest entomologist I know.”

“Sunny,” Yugyeom said. “I’ll be the only entomologist you know.”

“So, I’m not wrong,” she smiled. “You’ll be enjoying yourself in the Sunshine State. Making best friends with the alligators and going to Disney every weekend.”

“Hardly,” he shook his head, looking up at her. “Plus, we still have our big trip, right?”

“God,” she smiled wide, smoothing her hands through her hair. “I can’t believe we are doing it. The three of us have been talking about it for years.”

“Too bad Bambam had to decide to become internet famous instead of come with us. Lame.”

Sunny looked over at him, a question in her smile. “It will still be fun, right?” she scrunched her nose. “With just the two of us?”

Yugyeom stared at her, seeing all of her beauty catch in the light. Making his butterflies roar back to life. “Of course, it will.”

Sunny seemed content with his answer, leaning a little closer. “You know I’ve been counting down the days. I’ve practically been packed for a month.”

“Really?” Yugyeom suddenly felt glad he’d left that black suit jacket in the car as the heat of his skin radiated a little warmer. “What do your dads think?”

She sighed. “Well, my dad thinks I’m going to get kidnapped,” she raised an eyebrow. “But Appa thinks I’ll be fine. Told me to just name drop him if I get into any trouble.”

“Sounds like them,” Yugyeom chuckled, thinking about their encounter on the side of the highway.

The space between them fell quiet. Pensive. Both of them getting caught up in their own thoughts for so long that Yugyeom felt awkward, unwilling to be the one to break. To admit what he was thinking. That, of course, all he wanted to do right now was fulfill the task he’d set out to do. Tell her how he feels, pull her in for a kiss, cement the start of something new. But looking at her borrowed clothes, smelling the faint scent of beer still on her breath, watching her tripped up in her emotions, something stopped him.

She spoke suddenly, voice breaking up the quiet. “This night wasn’t supposed to be like this,” she whispered. “It was supposed to be me having fun with my best friend.” She looked over at him, eyes round and sad. “I’m sorry I ruined it.”

And she was right. This night wasn’t meant to be about Yugyeom’s long withheld confession. About his feelings. About all the things he wanted for them. Maybe another night but that confession wasn’t what she needed right now. What she needed was her best friend.

“You didn’t ruin it,” he sighed. “Look at us now. We’re having fun, right?” he smiled.

“Yeah,” she laughed, tucking her hair behind her ear. “We’re having fun.”

\---

Graduation did come a week later. An outdoor ceremony at the high school’s football field. All of their dads in attendance, cheering from the stands as their names were read out and they walked across the stage to grab their diplomas. Yugyeom following behind Bambam and getting considerably less cheers from the crowd even if he could see Sunny clapping from her seat near the back rows.

And after the ceremony, everyone went back to Sunny’s house for a party. Family and friends alike were in attendance. Jinyoung explaining in detailed Korean to Jaebeom how they’d managed to grow the house bonsai to over three feet tall now. Mark and his mother working on dinner together in the kitchen. Bambam and Jackson playing some variation of Chinese poker with Mark’s dad at the kitchen table.

Sunny was coming out of her room, changed from her cap and gown and dress into jeans and a t-shirt, when Yugyeom touched her arm softly.

“Hey” he breathed. “Can we talk?”

“Yeah, sure,” she said. “What’s up?”

Yugyeom’s mouth fell open, hesitating around his words. “Somewhere private,” he breathed.

Sunny’s brows drew together. “You’re scaring me.”

“It’s not bad,” he shook his head.

She bent down, “As long as my old boy can come with us.” She scooped Milo into her arms, kissing the top of his fluffy head.

The two of them found themselves sitting at the edge of the pool, the orange and purple clouds of dusk reflecting in the water. Quiet except for the murmur of the party inside. The little skips of water as Yugyeom was dipping his toes in, drawing tranquil little circles that rippled outward while Sunny sat with her knees drawn up into her chest. Milo laying at her side, enjoying the pets he was receiving.

“So…” Sunny looked over, a question in her eyes.

Yugyeom cleared his throat. “You were okay once you got home the other night, right?”

She huffed. “I mean my dad wasn’t so thrilled about me coming home half drunk,” she shrugged. “And I tried the whole ‘I am of legal age in Korea’ thing, but it didn’t really work.”

“Ouch,” he winced. “I hope you weren’t in too much trouble.”

“I mean how could I be? I’m leaving the house in a few days.” 

“Yeah, you’re right.” The space between them fell quiet again. Yugyeom looked around, eyes grazing the building over his shoulder, studying every memorized inch of it. Every single one eliciting some kind of flood of memories that washed over him in one big wave. “God, this house.”

Sunny laughed, pointing over to the grass next to the pool. “Remember when you broke your wrist out here.”

“Yeah, cause you pushed me.”

She looked over at him, mouth hanging open in mock offense. “I did not,” she hit his chest.

“Ow,” he rubbed the spot, laughing “Of course you did. I couldn’t do a cartwheel so you thought pushing me over was the best way to learn.”

She scoffed, “Okay, well it’s not my fault you had no upper body strength.”

“I was six!”

“Still,” she rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her knees and letting her chin rest there.

Yugyeom looked at her. He took a deep breath. “A lot of memories here, huh?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “But I’m glad we can always come back here. And not just to the house. But… us,” she tentatively took her hand, placing it over his on the ledge as she looked at him. “I’m glad things will always be like this with us. No matter what happens.”

Yugyeom swallowed. Feeling the brush of her skin igniting everything like the strike of a match. Thinking this was it. This was his moment. “Sunny,” he started.

She sighed, smiling and drawing her hand away as she looked up into the dusk sky. “I’m just ready to go on this trip and have no one weighing me down. No girlfriend or boyfriend. I’m just ready to have fun with my best friend. That’s _all_ I want, you know?”

Every menial hope Yugyeom had been trying so hard to muster crashed all at once like a tsunami. His thoughts flatlining. “Yeah,” he stumbled for the words. “Yeah. Same.”

“What did you want to tell me?” she asked, looking over at him.

Yugyeom’s mouth hung open. “I’m just excited for this summer,” he rushed to say.

Sunny smiled brightly. So bright that it made him wonder if the sun had even set. “I am, too.”

“Guys!”

They turned around seeing Bambam leaning out the glass door. 

“Come on,” he beckoned. “Dinner is ready.”

Sunny stood up from the edge of the pool, looking back at Yugyeom. “You ready?” she said, offering her hand.

And Yugyeom knew he could hold his breath a little bit longer. He grabbed her hand.

“Whenever you are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW. I can’t believe we have reached the end of dads. This story has grown to be more than I ever thought it could be. I’m so grateful for everyone who has gotten involved in this story in whatever way they choose to. I’m SO SO appreciative for all of you.
> 
> For this last chapter, I always wanted to do a time jump and discuss the next generation. In a way, I feel like it alludes to the idea that even if markjin’s story is “over” and they are content in their life, the narrative gets passed down to the kids. I love our golden trio and I’m so happy I could show a bit of them grown up.
> 
> All in all, I’m so overwhelmed with this project coming to a close. I have loved every moment of it and I cannot wait to bring you a new markjin au in the coming months!
> 
> In the meantime, come yell at me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/oceans4jinyoung) and [Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.me/oceans4jinyoung)!! Also feel free to offer your support on [Ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/oceans4jinyoung)!!


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